Once You Know
by Whisper.Winds
Summary: They say once you know, you can never go back. The things Bella discovers while in the hands of an old foe during Edward's absence cannot be forgotten, but how will she deal with them? James/Bella. Romance/Drama. Please read and review!
1. Alone?

C H A P T E R | _O N E  
Author's Note_: I would appreciate any and all comments, whether they're good or bad. Good is always better, but I can definitely use constructive criticism, as well. Thank you!

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"Shh."

There was no denying the surge of hope that erupted through me as the ice cold hands I believed to be familiar locked around my mouth and wrists. I fought back that urge to scream, the idea dying in my throat as I searched the darkness for the golden eyed angel who had been absent for so long. I cursed under my breath, seeing nothing in the darkness, the sensation of the frozen grip that had ensnared me fading as the warm night's air replaced it. Another dream, I realized, the gaping hole that had been driven through my chest splitting open, just like new. I should have known better than to trust myself in the state I'd been in, months over, by this point. I'd been seeing him everywhere, hearing his voice in my dreams and, more recently, in her waking hours. In this place, so similar to the place he had left me, was it any wonder that I could recall in great detail the feeling of having him close?

I would have believed that, accepted that the hands I felt were naught but a product of what I'd come close to labeling my insanity, if not for the flash of pale, white skin I caught, zipping by in a patch of moonlight. My heart still managed to fall, sinking deeper into the hole in my chest than moments prior - I didn't feel him. This presence did not bring with it the calm and immediate gratification that my hallucinations of Edward had. This felt solid, logical, somehow. It felt real. The tiniest surge of fear rocketed through me, and I damn near reveled in it. It was a feeling in general, something that broke through the monotony of numbess, day in and day out. I could at least be grateful for that, if nothing else. I backed up, hands outstretched behind me, until they met the damp moss that covered each and every tree trunk in the forest. I knew all the trees by heart, it seemed, having spent many hours of the night in the very area I now stood in, waiting for something. Anything, at all. Now that I was glimpsing that something, even if it had not been what I expected, my heart was suddenly attempting to liven itself into beating, again.

"Is it you?" I asked the darkness, unable to speak aloud Edward's name, though I was praying with all my might that the answer would come in the velveteen silk of the voice I knew, so well. Tears stung my eyes, and I almost laughed with glee. I was feeling again, after months of moonless nights and sunless days, of not feeling the rain or the sunshine, or even trivial and human emotions, I was finally feeling something. I wondered, very briefly, if the fact that I refused to discriminate based on what I was feeling - fear, happiness, sadness - made me pathetic. The thought was gone as fast as it had come, however, replaced with my attempt to keep up with another blindingly fast flash of white that whizzed by.

I circled, feeling the presence of someone or something, against my back. The cool, faintly sweet breath of a vampire lingered on my cheek, though it was impossible to tell reality from exquisite and painful fantasy. Besides, all vampires seemed to have the same scent on their breath, give or take an undercurrent. This scent was different, though I would not allow myself to acknowledge that. How could I, when I was finally being offered a mental vacation more realistic than just the whispers of his echoing voice in my head. It, somehow, mattered even less to me that, if it were not Edward, I was in very real danger. It was sick, but it was worth it to me, even to pretend, for a moment or two.

Whoever, whatever was circling me in the forest ghosted closer and closer every time I whipped around, searching frantically for Edward anywhere in the darkness. My tears flowed unchecked over my cheeks as I turned circles fast enough to make me dizzy, until finally I was pinned roughly against a tree. It happened so fast that my mind refused to process it for several moments. It took me an equal amount of time to take in the face that stared back at me, the moonlight casting enough light for me to make out the features that the face wore. I expected the hole to come back with renowned vengeance, but it ached dully around the edges, a normal and routine senstation, for me.

"You need to work on your listening skills. I asked to you keep quiet," the sultry voice purred, semi-familiar red eyes burning into mine as a cold hand found its way to my throat. I didn't understand how this reality was possible, but I could definitely assure myself that it was far from a fantasy. My dreams were of Edward, only ever Edward, and the pain was alway reserved for when I opened my eyes. This person, this creature, was not the fabric my dreams were made of. He had been the very core of my nightmares for the better part of a year, until finally those dreams had subsided. I froze, immediately, wondering how this scenario existed, though I was positive as to how it was to end.

"Much better," he congratulated, hand moving from my throat when he was sufficiently convinced I'd be keeping silent. He kept a grip on my chin, holding my gaze to his with his thumb and forefinger. I couldn't speak, at that point, if I had wanted to. Given his instructions and the grave seriousness he had given them to me with, I did not intend to try. I could see the smile on his lips and the gleam of his brilliant teeth in the moonlight as his lips curled back over them. He gave a musical but threatening laugh that made me shudder, the reaction he drew from me only making him laugh more. After a moment, he grew deathly silent, red eyes watching and observing with utter seriousness. "Now, and forgive me, but I'm honestly curious, here, I would like to know just what you're doing out here tonight and, so alone?"

I shuddered at the coolness of his breath as he leaned in with his words, voice menacing but amused as he spoke. I was unsure whether it was a question he truly desired an answer to, or merely a taunt, until he gave me a warning shove back into the tree, taking a step forward to intrude my personal space. My breath stopped completely, making words difficult to come by. His narrowed eyes indicated a distinct lack of playfulness about the request and I did my best to find the vocal skills God had given me.

"Looking for something," came my soft and flat reply. I had decided to give him the truth in it's least detailed form. He looked on at me, curiously, loosening his grip ever so slightly as he appraised my words.

"And what, pray tell, have you been looking for, in the woods, every night for weeks upon weeks? One would only assume it's trouble you're hoping to find..." His voice was light and comical, though the edge of brutality that lurked there never left. He wanted to remind me how dangerous he was, and what a fool Edward had been for ever allowing him to live, in the first place. His paraphrasing my nighttime rituals as they had been for the better part of the time Edward had been gone let on to one key fact - James had been watching. He had never stopped tracking me, never stopped keeping tabs on his human prey. It also indicated that he knew precisely what I had been looking for, all those nights I'd put myself in harms way. I didn't need to say it.

"You know who I've been looking for," I answered, none too timid to give him that bold of an answer. If James was going to attempt round two of the game he had begun before, he was out of luck. It would end in his killing me, as Edward would not be coming to her rescue. Pity, really. I was just barely eighteen, and it seemed a shame to die alone, without the person you cared for most even acknowledging your existence. There hardly seemed an alternative to my death, as I was certain James had not merely dropped by to chat. And if he had, this time, the next time would end in a bloody way. It was all a matter of 'when'.

"Ah, yes. Loverboy and the rest of the do-gooders seemed to have abandoned you," he said, a mocking pout playing on his lips. He brought a hand to my cheek, icy fingertips caressing the damp skin of my cheek, where my tears had fallen. I shivered, my mind immediately making the connection between the temperature of his touch and Edward. I bit back those thoughts, refusing to allow the memory of Edward's gentle, faint touches to be marred by confusing them with the rough, unpracticed way James had about him. It was a disgusting comparison to attempt. "I felt it was certain he'd return for you, by this point. You're such an interesting little plaything, and I believe we both knew my game was far from finished..."

He could threaten me all he wanted, I could handle his taunts. It was nothing I hadn't lived through before, and, in all honesty, living was not high on the list of concerns. I had not been doing much living in so long, in the first place. Numbness was no comparison to the vibrance and love I had felt when with Edward, or even the broken, shattered feeling I had achieved when he left me. It was a twisted stroke of fate's pen that I was to be so grateful to my would-be murderer, just for allowing me a single night of feeling something amid the time I had felt so little. Irony in it's truest form.

"Why aren't you frightened? Last time you were in this situation, I could smell your fear a mile away," he recalled, breathing deeply, presumably checking the air for a similar scent. He would find none. He seemed frustrated by this, growling and tightening his grasp on me, once more. I tensed up, but still failed to muster up the fear he seemed to crave. "Last time, you even knew for certain Edward would find you. Now, it's all up to a roll of the dice. You have much more to fear now, especially if your little hero decides not to show," he pointed out, casually, giving a small shrug.

"He won't come for me, this time," I answered, defeated but certain. James looked shocked, though I could not decide whether this was due to my speaking out of turn or the information I was giving him. He inched ever closer, though I hadn't been sure that was possible, and laughed almost directly against my lips. It was a humorless chuckle that unnerved me by it's proximity and it's whimsical but dangerous tone. His scent, I noted, was nothing like Edward's. There was a sweet, earthen tone to his skin, where as Edward's had been tinged with a faintly minty note. Not that the perfume of my attacker should have been registering in my mimd, whatsoever.

"Oh, you had better hope you're mistaken, though I suppose we'll see just how well you know your Romeo... Sweet dreams," he half whispered the latter half of his sentence, head cocked curiously to the side. His hand moved from my chin to entangle deeply in my mussed mane of hair in one of the familiarly quick moves vampires were capable of, pausing less than a human blink before my skull made direct contact with the sturdy trunk behind me.


	2. A Room With a View

C H A P T E R _| T W O__  
Author's Note: _I dedicate this to you lot who decided to review so early! I was going to save this 'til tomorrow, but... well, here you go. It'll give people more to read, which always means more to review. :P

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The moment I woke, black clouds bloomed deep behind my eyelids, bursts of stars and explosions of color accompanying them, making my stomach lurch. I could only blame this on the ache that had settled in the crown of my skull, making it impossible to open my eyes, to move without causing myself to groan out in pain. Besides the very realistic throbbing taking place in my head, the location I found myself in led me to believe that not James, the woods, nor the sickening smack of my head against the tree, had been a dream. This reality was only confirmed when I forced my eyes open and was met with the sight of red eyes, peering back at me. A hand was over my mouth before I had time to scream, silencing the sound before it had time to escape. It was not that I was any more likely to scream now than I had been before, but rather that the glow of Scarlett irises less than an inch from my own. His body crouched over mine, keeping my mouth covered until he seemed to think he had communicated that I was not to scream.

"We have neighbors," he informed me, swiftly curling back and away from me, allowing me ample room to sit up. I looked around the dimly lit room, squinting at the pain it caused me to lift my head at all. He must have hit it much harder than I had anticipated. We were not in my room, I immediately noticed. This room definitely belonged to a hotel. One could clearly see that by the matching wallpaper and drapery scheme, not to mention how clean and crisp everything was. It was useless to ask him where we were, especially since I could tell with certainty that it was not in Forks. There was a bed and breakfast on the outskirts of Forks, but no hotel that appeared this comfortable.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, collecting my knees into my chest and placing a hand on either of my throbbing temples. He did not answer me, in the slightest. He merely looked out the window, observing something unseen to me, before shutting the blinds and pulling the drapes. It was not until then that I noticed his attire, the first time I'd seen him in proper light and with righted vision. My stomach turned at the sight of the bloody clothes he wore, and he caught sight of my reaction. Suddenly I wished I had not pressed my luck with my first question, especially since I had more and more, as the moments ticked by. He rolled his head to either side as though he was cracking his neck and shot me a look.

"I'm going to bathe," he announced as though the information were something formal and of interest. I continued to stare blankly ahead at him, trying to remember if I had ever heard Edward utter that same sentence. I finally decided that a vampire would only ever need to clean themselves after quite a messy hunt, as this did apply to James' current state. Shoeless and covered in small specks of blood, not to mention the wearer of a blood soaked tee shirt, he did look as though he could have used something of a bath. I snapped out of my critiquing his need of personal hygiene when he drew closer and narrowed his eyes at me, voice low with threat as he continued his train of thought. "I trust you will not do anything foolish while I'm away. That is, unless you want things to really get interesting... Do we have an understanding?"

I shuddered at the menacing smile he ended the sentence with, unable to do much more than nod frantically. He chuckled slightly before withdrawing to the bathroom, only after shedding his shirt in a pile next to the door. I bit back the urge to admire the defined planes of his body as he tossed one last warning glance back into the room, catching my wandering eyes and smiling in the mirror before slamming the door, apparently modest enough to shed his leather pants in the bathroom, away from my traitorously curious eyes. I mentally scolded myself - what had I been thinking, in that moment? Whatever that flicker of want, as much as I loathed using that term, had been, I strictly refused to allow it to resurface. I crossed the room once I heard the water of the shower begin, gathering up the crumpled and bloody shirt. I held it away from me for clear reasons, not looking at it as I carried it to the kitchen sink. I remembered what Renee had taught me about getting out stains - red wine, grape juice, and, toughest of all, blood. It would not work as well without some sort of laundry detergent, I knew, but at least the stain would not be a bright, screaming crimson against the grey background of the fabric. And at least I would not be trying to decipher my thoughts about James as he retreated to the bathroom. My mind was under much too much stress to try and make sense of everything that ran across it, I firmly insisted to myself.

I scrubbed furiously at the fabric of his shirt while trying not to take note of the steady flow of red that trickled off of it each and every time I wrung it out. I tried desperately not to envision that stream of red as someone's blood, someone's life that he had ripped away without care. It did lead me to wonder, however, why I was being spared. If he was hungry, he had no reason to leave the room, no reason to put effort into the hunt. There I was, fresh and deliciously scented, I had been told. That, too, proved a topic I was not capable of handling at that moment. I was quickly tabulating a large list - no blood, no hunting, no naked torsos, no death. Simple enough, was it not? Before I even heard the shower come to a stop, I could feel an ice cold body pressed close to mine and a hand at my throat before I had a chance to react.

"What have you done with my clothes?" he asked gruffly, voice more annoyed than threatening, this time. He loosened his grip on my throat and spun me around to meet his aggravated eyes. I fought back the same urge as before, the urge to study him more closely, especially now that he was more clean than I had ever witnessed him. Never before had I seen him any other way than encrusted with mud, smelling of the woods. He still carried the naturally earthy scent, evident as he pressed closer to me, but it was less outdoorsy than it had bee, previously. His face was clean, as were his feet, I supposed, though I did not have the courage to break eye contact and check. I held the shirt up in my hand, never looking away from his face. His eyes darted to the shirt in a millisecond and were once again locked on my face. I swallowed hard as he searched my expression, confusion evident in his.

"I washed your shirt," I mumbled the obvious, backing up further until my back pressed uncomfortably into the cool metal of the sink. He took an equal step forward, keeping us locked in the unnerving dance we had begun when he entered the room. He was not aiming for my comfortableness at the moment, I knew. He snatched the damp shirt from my hand and growled lightly, though I could not pinpoint the reason for it. He cocked his head to the side, gaze unrelenting at all times.

"Offering kindness to your captor is not customary of you humans," he stated, narrowing his brilliant red eyes at me as he seemed to weigh something in his mind. He was likely trying to see an ulterior motive buried within the action of having taking his shirt to the wash. I could reason with myself that it was merely the sight of his blood stained attire that had moved me to this random act of civility, or even that I had done so in hopes that it might persuade him to keep me alive and well, if only a little longer. In all honesty, I could not decipher what had led me to do what I had done. It had simply seemed like the appropriate thing to do, at the time. I sat perfectly still on the bed, afraid to flinch under the close scrutiny of his eyes. He had, apparently, mistaken my favor for a sabotage, though it was nothing of the sort.

"They needed to be washed as badly as you did," I quipped, looking away. I certainly had a death wish, it seemed, taunting a vampire who already suspected me of some sort of betrayal. I assumed, with what I was positive was ninety eight percent accuracy, that my good deed of washing his tattered shirt was neither going to save my life, nor truly endanger it. If he intended to kill me, he would do it without regard to my past kindnesses, or my sharp tongue. What was to be done had likely already been decided clearly in his mind. It was a matter of waiting now, seeing how exactly this game was to be played. I needed to learn his rules before I started worrying about disqualification.

"If this is a trick, you will pay," he muttered, a quick flick of his fingers brushing stray hair from my face. I blinked several times, caught off gaurd by the motion, only to reopen my eyes to the sight of him lounging shirtless on the bed. I could only comfort myself by reiterating that all vampires were beautiful, each and every last one of them. I was merely human, a human who had become accustomed to that beauty once, only to be deprived of it. It was only normal that I would be captivated at least slightly by being in such closed quarters with that haunting beauty, once more. He had one leg crossed over the other, one hand behind his head, the remote in the other. Channels whirred past on the screen, several every second, as he scanned the frequency for something interesting. It moved too fast for me to keep up.

"I'm not going to try to trick you," I said, voice soft and lost in confusion at both his assumption that I would and the words coming out of my mouth. Attempting to trick James would not benefit me, any. My throat would be gone before any plans were carried out, and if I survived that, I was slowly realizing that, in this situation, I could not survive without him. I had no money, no clue where we were, no way to return home safely, no one to take care of me. I had no choice but to trust James, for the time being, and I believed he realized this, too. I was considering changing my surname to Stockholm, any moment now.

"There's food and water in the fridge," he muttered, never removing his eyes from the television set. I did not move, still frozen in place by his sudden repaying of my kindness. Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps it did matter what sort of an attitude I showed towards him. It seemed my small favors made somewhat of a difference in whether or not I was allowed to eat. When I still stood in the same place, he growled in frustration, looking in my direction for the first time since he had exited the room. "Listen, I have no overwhelming desire to carry you unconscious, again. You're even more useless when you're weak. Eat."

I obeyed his instructions and turned slowly to the fridge, opening it to peer inside. It was a small, economy sized refrigerator, practically barren save the food and the few bottles of water tossed haphazardly inside. I grabbed a bottle and ate as much as I was able to at the moment, which was a rather pitiful amount. My stomach was so tightly wound in knots, eating was practically impossible. When I had my fill, I crossed the room timidly, unsure where I was supposed to go. There was an easy chair in the corner of the room, the only other piece of furniture besides the bed that he currently occupied. I was unsure how to even ask, which resulted in my standing there and staring at him, a blank look on my face.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to stare?" he asked flatly, eyes glued to the television as channel after channel clicked by. I swallowed hard and tried to find my voice.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" I finally asked after having weighed the possibility that the question would get my neck snapped before I had a chance to differentiate it from the wind. He turned and gave me a curious look, though it quickly faded to aggravation at my stupidity. He gestured around at the emptiness that was half of the bed, sighing and rolling his eyes in exasperation. Again, I froze. James was apparently very skilled at rendering me immobile. It did not compute, in my mind, what he was askin me to do. Of course, it was nothing scandalous, sharing a bed in a room which only held one. Still, the thought of his ice cold body in such close proximity sent shivers through me, shivers that were not due to either the cold or my fear, much to my dismay.

"If you don't find your accommodations comfortable enough, I'm sure I can help you sleep, once again," he offered sarcastically, chuckling darkly at my surprised expression. I shook my head quickly and approached the bed closer. I could sleep on my own better in any situation than I could take another blow to the head. He turned down my side of the covers that he laid on top of, flipping it back without much care when I had slipped inside. He continued to channel surf, though I had a suspicion he was revisiting the same shows over and over again. Just as I had believed it would, the tension settled awkwardly in the close proximity we shared. I hated myself for even thinking those thoughts, for feeling anything but fear and loathsome disgust towards this creature who had made an attempt on my life, once. There was no logic behind it, no reason other that than he was drawing out so many long dead emotions. Feeling was addictive, and James was my supplier, that evening. There was no other logic that would fit with the butterflies that thrummed in my stomach as I lay close enough to feel the cold radiating from his skin.

"Sweet dreams," he purred in his typically menacing tone, cold breath tickling the shell of my ear. I hadn't even felt him lean in, the bed never having shifted weight an inch. I flinched at the words, expecting a blow similar to the one I had reieved the last time that line had been delivered. Instead, I heard only the clicking of more television channels as he dismissed them.


	3. Admit It

C H A P T E R | _T H R E E  
Author's Note:_ Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I always appreciate hearing from readers and getting to know what you're thinking of it all, thus far. I hope everyone has a happy and safe Thanksgiving holiday, however and whatever you celebrate.

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The calm that infiltrated my sleep was enough to unnerve me in my waking hours

I did not dream of Edward that night, nor did I wake up screaming. The only nights that had been anything like the one I spent in the hotel were nights that I relied on cough suppressant to get me through the evening. Sleeping without aid was a dangerous game to play for my fragile psyche, dreams being the only time I spent with Edward in his absence. Of course, this resulted in my waking up, lungs burning with my screams. The latter happened so often that Charlie had stopped checking in to be sure I was not physically in danger. Despite the fact that the bed I slept so peacefully in was shared by a monster, a killer of unparalleled danger to me, it was truly the first I had slept without complications. Even in my waking hours, it was not something I would be capable of figuring out.

The single most confounding thing about the entire situation was the way I woke up - alone, thunder rumbling distantly outside the room, clinging desperately to a broken in leather jacket. I was confused often I initially woke up, but never so much as I was, at that moment. I could make sense of being alone, I usually was, and even of the rain, because, well, it was nothing new, but the jacket certainly was. It was unfamiliar, yet only slightly so. I could place that I had seen it somewhere, almost immediately, but not where, not on who. There was something off putting about the way I had it clutched to me in my sleep, like a favorite teddy bear or blanket. The leather was warm, telling me I had not just recently picked it up. I leaned into it, pressing my nose into the collar and breathing deeply. It was around that time I realized just who the jacket in question belonged to. The smell was one I was becoming familiar with, over the past day or so. I was practically disgusted with myself and with the sigh I gave as the scent flooded my senses. I scowled and tossed the jacket to the floor.

I frowned deeply, looking around the room; where was he? And why did it bother me so that he was not there, with me? Taking advantage of the fact that I was alone, I woke up slowly, allowing my thoughts to process. There was something changing, something that I was not sure I wanted to change, but I was powerless to stop it. I was not sure when I crossed the line into full on insanity, but the other side was proving better than I had anticipated. At least in my insanity I was not alone. The problem with that upside was the fact that I could not say with any amount of certainty that being in the company of a murderer was any better than being in the company of ghosts and dreams, the way I had been. After a half hour or so of concentrating on these things, I decided I could not give myself more time to ponder these thoughts, fearing the conclusions I might reach. Instead, I did something that was probably far down the list of positive things to do while being held hostage. I left the room.

I did not leave the room, however, without full intention to return. It was a move spurred by something I could not explain, something akin to my having washed James' shirt the night before. My feet simply moved beneath me, distracting me from the flurry of thoughts that crowded my mind. The nearest destination was a snack machine at the end of the hall, something of a good enough time waster, for the moment. It should have occurred to me that what I was doing was dangerous and very wrong, at that moment. There was no question that, if I was to get caught, there would be hell to pay. Still, I pressed on timidly, towards the snack machine that sat parallel to the ice machine at the end of the dimly lit hall. I looked down out of instinct, digging a few crumpled dollar bills from my pocket, and the action was cut short. I found myself pressed up against the machine, flipped towards my assailant as a forearm applied pressure to my throat. James' eyes burned back into mine, his face distorted with anger.

"Did I or did I not tell you this would make things interesting?" he growled, pressing his forearm more harshly into my throat. I trembled with fear as he spoke directly into my eyes, voice alight with a clear image of what he was capable of. I was in pain, yes, but nothing compared to what I would be, if he truly thought I was a threat. Instinctual, my hands pawed at his arm as I tried to gasp for air, eyes wide from fright. His eyes sparkled wickedly with the excitement he found in my reaction. "There is nowhere you could go that you'd be able to escape me. Like now, for instance... you left, I heard you. And here I am."

"I-I wasn't trying to leave," I stammered, once he had relaxed his pressure on my throat. Of course, I did not expect him to believe this. He had very little reason to trust in the fact that I was not, under this circumstance or any other at the moment, prepared to leave his side to try and take care of myself in an unfamiliar place. I was not even sure what state we were in, what hotel we were staying at. He rolled his eyes and gave a low growl at my answer, his hand going roughly around my upper arm and dragging me back towards the room.

"Let me personally assure you, you will _not _be trying this again, that's for sure," he muttered darkly, continuing on the warpath he was blazing to our hotel room. It occurred to me that anyone could see this scene unfolding if only they opened a door, but James did not seem to mind. He could have us back to the room and me on my deathbed before any human could turn a doorknob. Before I could continue with my protests, which were falling on deaf ears in the first place, we were at the door and I was being tossed roughly inside the room. I landed on my feet, stumbling about in my usually coltish way, before he forcefully moved me over to the bed. He paced the room furiously before turning back to me, no trace of humor in the smile that spread over his lips.

"So, you decided to do a little exploring, did you?" he asked, voice sarcastic and dripping with malice. I flinched back, shaking my head frantically. He laughed joylessly and inhaled deeply at the point in my neck where my pulse pounded away. I would not lie to myself in this instance and pretend my heart was skittering to such an erratic pace simply in fear of what he might do. His frame was perched over me in the most impossibly graceful way, the breath he took at my pulse point more intoxicating than menacing, as I knew it was meant to be. I knew he could hear my heart flipping wildly, though he almost certainly mistook it's cause. I also knew he did not, and likely would not, believe that I was not attempting to escape. I opened my mouth to speak and a large, cold hand shut it forcefully for me.

"Have I not provided all the things a human needs, in this situation? And, don't you realize, you would never get very far away?" His face was pressed close to my ear, our jaws flush with one another as he purred threats into my ear. The anger in his voice was not the typically pleased, entertained fury I found there when he was delighted about being pissed off. He was not enjoying this argument the same way he had enjoyed others. I nodded slowly in response to both of his questions, not daring to speak after being instructed not to. I merely awaited his.

"And do you have anywhere else to go, anyone else to go to?" Though I complied, he shook my head for me this time, one hand on my jaw tilting my head from the left back to the right. The answer was not one I was prepared to disagree with. He snickered at my willingness to go along with him and better sat up to stare down at me, once more.

"Then tell me," he tilted my eyes up to directly meet his, our faces centimeters away from one another, "just why in the hell were you trying to leave?"

"I wasn't," I protested again, much more softly than the last time. Speaking any louder than I did was impossible at the moment, it seemed. He looked at me, presumably waiting for me to continue explaining, though he did not look particularly interested in hearing it. "I woke up, you were gone..."

"And you thought this was a perfect time to make some sort of a break for it?" he questioned, his voice implying the foolishness that would have entailed. I shook my head quickly and pressed on with my excuse, once I believed I had his go ahead.

"I wanted out of the room, just for a minute. I was going to come back," I insisted, struggling slightly against the hold he had on my wrists. His grip was like a vise, ironclad and painful to incur. He did not, of course, allow me any more leeway to move. In fact, I thought I felt him tighten his hold, a fraction, not that I didn't half expect that reaction, from him. When I spoke again, my voice came in a sincere whisper. "I have no money, no food, nowhere to go, no idea where we even are... I can't leave you."

He weighed my words as I spoke them, likely not realizing the kind of honesty that lie behind them, though they did make some impact. His grip on my wrists slackened and his eyes softened, marginally, leaving me thanking God for small favors. "You will not leave the room without accompaniment, again," he instructed, voice deathly serious as he spoke. "You have everything you need, right here in this room. Water, food, a bed... no needs have been ignored. I have taken more measures than usual to assure your comfort. You would be wise not to take that for granted."

"I haven't been," I mumbled, distracted by the pair of blood red eyes that stared down at me, full of ambivalence rather than fury. Those feelings, the ones I had been fighting that same morning, were coming back with a vengeance. It made sense, however... The strong smell of his jacket was watered down compared to the intense, concentrated scent of his skin as he hovered over me. I did not know what I was surrendering to, but there was an internal struggle that I was highly prepared to lose, one that was centered around the danger in James' voice, the scent of his skin, the careless way he handled me. The thing I feared most, at that moment, was that he could see that battle waging, the want that threatened to cloud both my eyes and my judgment. Unfortunately, I was almost certain he could.

"Your heart is going wild. And, my, _my_, what a peculiar mix of emotions I can smell, on you... anger, fear, both right for the moment. But, honestly, _lust_?" He did not seem as horrified or shocked as I was, almost delighting in saying the world aloud. I cringed as he teased me, obviously taking some sick pleasure in my discomfort. I turned my head from him, though the action was nullified by his catching the side of my face in his palm, keeping my eyes locked on his.

"How long has it been since he left you?" He asked, his voice sultry, like silk. I closed my eyes and refused to answer that question; the hole in my chest did not need to be added to the list of things I was feeling, at the moment. Though I had prayed he would not, he continued, this time, running the back of his hand as delicately as I imagined he was capable of over my neck. "And just how easy was it to pretend he was here with you, last night?"

My eyes fluttered open in confusion, which made him laugh, though it was barely audible. He leaned in so that his forehead rested against my temple, his lips dancing over my neck as he spoke. It was around that time I began cursing him to hell for having done this to me in the first place, for making me feel things that were not my own feelings. Because, of course, they couldn't be what I truly felt, could they? I could, under no circumstances, honestly be laying underneath a creature who had attempted to end my life once, wondering how his skin would taste, based on the smell he gave off. Or, what it would feel like to kiss him, after kissing no one, for so long. It was wrong to even entertain these thoughts, let alone have half a mind to realize them.

"Oh, I wish you could have seen yourself." He dragged his teeth lightly over my neck, sending shudders rocketing through me. Edward had never done something of that magnitude, always afraid to lose his self control. The prolonged proximity James was allowing me was definitely not Edward's cup of tea, though it was regretfully drawing a pleasurable reaction from my traitorous body. He grinned wickedly and laughed low in his chest. "Fragile. Pathetic. Begging me not to go while you hung onto me, half the night. I just _hated_ myself for losing that camcorder, so long ago... If he saw that, I wonder, would he know for certain you were dreaming of him?"

If my blood had not already been pumping furious and hot through my veins, it would have ran cold.

I knew, without a speck of uncertainty, I had not dreamed of Edward the night before. I knew what it felt like to dream of him, to have him haunt my subconscious like a disgruntled spirit. I knew that, had I truly been envisioning Edward in my dreams, I would have awoken it the dead of night, screaming, like I always did. I could not recall any dreams, let alone the vivid ones I always had when dreaming of Edward. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was sure the shock registered in my eyes - my peaceful night's sleep, my talk of having slept better then than I had in months, had been _due _to the fact that I shared a bed with another large, cold body, not in spite of the fact.

"Does it kill you to know I'm the closest you'll ever get to your poor, perfect little Edward, ever again?"

I knew the remark was meant to be cruel from the digusted way he said it, but the true cruelty was the answer I would have given, had it not been rhetorical. _No._ I had accepted, with time, that Edward did not love me. He had said it, and the hilarity came when I had half anticipated it. I no more expected James to love me than I expected Edward to, at that point and time. It boiled down to one thing: the fact that I had nobody before, and now, I at least had _some_body. Even if that someone would likely eventually end my life, I had someone who cared enough to keep me alive, for the moment, who was capable of truly making me feel alive. Love did not need to enter into the equation. It was about survival.


	4. Should Have Never Thought

C H A P T E R | _F O U R  
Author's Note:_ Thanks so much, once again, to everyone who's reviewing. Every review I get inspires me to get this story out, just a little faster.

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_'__Does it kill you to know I'm the closest you'll ever get to your poor, perfect little Edward, ever again?_' He had asked the question with such amusement, his voice bordering on hopeful. Edward's name and description were painted with loathsome disgust, as it was becoming crystal clear all talk of Edward would be. He seemed to grow frustrated at my lack of replies, his razor sharp teeth digging slightly more into the sensitive skin of my neck. I was intoxicated, much too drunk off of the danger and excitement of the conversation to reply, though I clearly interpreted his warning as what it was.

"No, it doesn't," I finally choked out, managing to find my voice amongst the avalanche of feelings that had overloaded my brain. He tensed momentarily, obviously not understanding how I could give such an answer. By all means, I should have been hysterical about the fact that I would never get so physically close to Edward again in all my life. In the same moment, I should have been delighting in how similar James' body was to Edward's, not to mention how close said body was to me, at that point. This was not the case, no matter how hard I wished and prayed otherwise.

"Forgive me if I don't believe that," he answered, mock concern in his voice as he narrowed his eyes in speculation. I could not blame him for disbelieving me. How could I, when I only half believed it, myself? "I may be a fairly pleasing imitation of your lover boy in your sleep, but I highly doubt I do much to convince you of that, in your waking hours."

"You're right," I agreed slowly, hoping he would see what was meant by this. He did not remind me of Edward, and I did not need him to. I could survive without the comfort I was seeking coming from Edward, or even someone who reminded me of him. It was contact I was looking for. Someone, anyone at all, who was willing to allow me to need them. Of course, this was merely what I was telling myself to stave off Logical Conclusion B - it was not simply anyone I was hungry for. It was James. Not because he was merely there, but because, somehow and somewhere deep down, from a part of myself I was not entirely fond of at the moment, I wanted _him_.

He did not receive my agreeing very positively, and rather than punish me for that physically, he was gone in an instant. I looked up in confusion, catching sight of him pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. Soon enough, however, he was once again looming over me. Asserting his physical dominance seemed to be a favorite tactic of his, and one that never lost any of it's potency. His face was twisted in anger as he peered down at me, eyes blazing.

"Can you, for one moment, humor me and let me in on what's so damned wonderful about this kid?" he asked gruffly, scathing sarcasm leaking into his voice. He was gone in a movement my eyes did not catch, leaning back against the wall, fingers steepled together. Under any other circumstance, I would have giggled at the use of the word 'kid' in a sentence regarding Edward, who happened to be well over a hundred years old. At this point and time, however, laughter was not my first impulse. If anything, that was one difference between he and Edward. I had never been afraid Edward would destroy my existence. I feared that each and every moment, with James. He opened his arms, shouting when he spoke. "Well?"

"You don't remind me of _him_," I began, swallowing hard as I tried to collect myself. I had to phrase my answer quite carefully, I knew. The wrong choice of words could set his temper flaring. I did not need to experience that twice in order to learn from it. James truly hated Edward, though I could only assume it was because he coveted something Edward possessed. Perhaps his ability to be civil, to forge ties and love. I hated myself for the desperation in my voice as I continued. "But I don't need you to, don't want you to remind me of him."

"Right," he answered, rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward slightly as he continued. His head tilted off to the side the way, I was noticing, it always did when he was scrutinizing something or curious about it. "Humans and their last ditch efforts to stay alive. You would cheat, steal, _lie_ to stay alive, would you not?"

"I'm not lying," I insisted, trembling slightly. I could not decide what had spurred my sudden confidence or the openness I was putting out there with James, but I did realize it was too late to back track, at that point. Something, and I was guessing it was the completely insane part of my brain, wanted to tell him all the thoughts I had considered the entire time we had been together. From the first look I had gotten at his torso as he exited into the restroom, to the peaceful feeling I had while sharing a bed with him, the lack of dreams in which Edward starred, to the fact that I could not curb my curiosity about the flavor of his kiss. If he was going to kill me eventually, and I felt almost certain he would, I didn't think it particularly mattered how sane I was, in the end.

"If you're telling the truth, then why don't you come over here..." He spoke with a direct challenge, crooking his index finger toward himself, red eyes burning holes in the confidence that had led me to confess to him in the first place. He looked on at me disbelievingly, likely assuming I would not budge. "And prove it. Prove that your precious little Edward isn't the only one on your mind, anymore."

My stomach tied in knots at that invitation, the sight of him shrugging off his leather jacket not doing much to assuage that side effect. Part of me wanted to remain firmly planted on the bed, to remain faithful to Edward, no matter how ridiculous a concept that may have been. I wanted to pretend, in some dark part of my heart, that Edward and I were still limited to one another, that we still belonged with one another. The other part of me, however, only grew hungry and more potent as I watched James shrug off his leather jacket. My heart fluttered wildly as he dropped the jacket in a heap on the floor, opening his arms and giving as if to say he was waiting. Waiting for what was my key question, though my subconscious clearly had every intention of finding out; my feet had hit the floor, striding slowly but surely over the short distance that separated us. I had no control over the path that my feet blazed, inching closer and closer to James with every step. Closer, that meant, to either blissful realization of the tension that had been building between us the entire time, or, quite possibly more likely, my death. I drew in a sharp breath when I believed we were close enough to one another, merely inches apart.

"How?" I asked, my voice small as it left my lips. He stared at me, eyes wide and expression incredulous. I had been right, it appeared, with my assumption that he did not expect me to take him up offer. My willingness to do whatever it took to prove such a complex notion to him honestly surprised even me. There was something hypnotic about him, something that drew me in, like a moth to a flame. I was playing with fire with every intention of getting burned. His expression eventually settled on amusement as he drew in, leaning his forehead against mine with a low laugh.

"How what, exactly?" he countered with a smile as he brushed my cheek, knowing precisely what I was questioning him about. He only wanted to hear me say it, I believed. I blushed hot at having to answer a question like that, though I found the strength to repeat what he had told me to do, to play along with his game.

"How can I show you that I'm not busy pretending you're someone else?" I asked, my hands balling into fists as I forced the words from my mouth. The tension was unbelievable, made worse by the sudden movement of his hands around my waist, pulling me against him. I whimpered slightly and he relished the noise, growling deep within his, now shirtless, chest as he licked lightly the shell of my ear. I shuddered and awaited my instructions, the eerie feeling that, whatever they were, I was going to blindly obey them. His cold hands snaked up from my waist, lifting the hem of my shirt ever so slightly as he brought his hands to a close around my small wrists. He held them up on either side of my face, grin spreading wide enough for me to take note of each of his perfectly white, sharp teeth. I thought my heart would explode before he finally got around to giving me any orders.

"Kiss me," he demanded, no question or request in his voice.

I froze up, once more. Never before had anyone so forcefully demanded I kiss them, nor had I ever believed myself to be the sort of person who's skin was set on fire by that sort of thing. It was clear at that moment, I had either known or severely underestimated just how sexual the energy and danger James exuded was. The logical half of my brain, the portion which could have reminded me what James truly was, that he was in fact a monster, a killer, an _animal_, was long gone. All I could see at that point was the fullness of his lips, the porcelain quality of his skin, the rough way his hands grasped at my wrist. The sheer want I had been fighting off when it came to him was slowly but surely winning out. Still, I was rendered immobile. It was too hard to bridge that gap between us, too difficult to put my neck on the line... literally.

"I knew it," he growled, exuding minimal effort in pushing me up against the wall opposite us, reversing the way we had stood moments ago. Now, his grip on my wrists was once again hard enough to leave bruises, despite it having been gentle, or at least more so than that moment, just seconds before. His face hovered mere centimeters from my own, his nose brushing mine at he snarled in frustration. The thought of angering him put my life in danger, but angering him for this reason threatened my own feelings. I _wanted_ him, and, though the decision was snap, I was going to have him.

He turned his head a fraction of an inch and I took advantage of the angle and pressed my lips to his in one swift movement, though I was still pinned to the wall by the will of his body. He tensed for one short moment, likely weighing whether or not what I was doing was truly happening, perhaps battling with his instincts, if he and Edward held any common ground with one another, whatsoever. I highly doubted the latter of the two options, though, not kidding myself enough to think that James would put much stock into keeping me alive, had he wanted to kill me. After his split second of shock and resistance, I found myself slammed hard against the wall again, his stone lips forcing my soft lips to mold around them. His hands kept both of mine pinned above my head as he continued his assault on my senses, tongue demanding entry into my mouth in a way that Edward had never, not once, kissed me.

I moaned lightly into his mouth, causing a smile I could feel to spread across his face. The noise had shocked me, though it was not the least bit out of place. His scent was incredible, as was the flavor of his kiss, once I gave myself over to it. It was every bit as sinfully delicious as I had believed it would be, before. The feeling of his ice cold tongue mingling with mine brought shivers up my spine, and it didn't have a damned thing to do with the temperature of his touch. My head spun, drunk and dizzy sensation creeping through my body as he continued to kiss me with absolute disregard for his self control, never stopping to recollect himself the way Edward had, so many times before. I was sure this was dangerous, though I had a sneaking suspicion that if James were really going to do away with me, I would not enjoy it nearly as much as I was, currently.

His mouth moved from mine, reluctantly on my part, going instead to my neck. He used both his tongue and his teeth to snake a white hot burning path to my collarbone. My back arched against my will, eliciting a dark but somehow pleased growl from deep inside his chest. He transferred both of my hands into one of his, using the other to cradle my hip, keeping it firmly planted against the wall. I almost smiled, knowing this could only mean that my accidental movement had caused him some amount of pleasure. There were no thoughts of Edward in my mind at that moment, nor thoughts of anyone but James as he continued to lick and nip at my skin. There was only James... his taste, his smell, his touch, _him. _Him, popping open the buttons to my shirt at they fell to the floor, landing with small _plinks_ against the linoleum.

"James," I muttered, that soft sound bringing me at least halfway back into reality. He did not stop, only continuing to wear down my self control as he shed my shirt for me, easily. His eyes blackened as he surveyed my upper half, naked save a bra that matched the color of his eyes, at the moment. He licked between the valley of my breasts and I moaned again, likely not the right reaction for the message I was attempting to convey. Catching myself, I pushed in vain against his chest, causing him to snicker. It was not the first time in the last few moments I had felt fear of him, only the first time I had felt so much of it at once. I feared both that he would not stop, and that I would not be able to ask him to, both causing fear in equal amounts, which only added to my self loathing. "James, please..."

He ignored my pleas, gathering me up against his cold chest and dropping me unceremoniously on the bed before ascending over top of me, once more. His lower half rested heavily on mine and one hand once again held two of mine above my head. I wanted to continue, I wanted _desperately_ to continue, but I knew it was wrong. It did not matter how alluring he was, how badly my body ached for him, it was _still_ wrong. I struggled against his grasp on my wrists, tears beginning to sting my eyes. I shouldn't have ever thought about the scenario I'd allowed to unfold, let alone actually let it do so.

"James..." I whimpered. "Don't. Please, stop."

I allowed my body to go limp beneath him. My theory went along the lines of that struggling only seemed to encourage him, and I was soon proved right. When my struggling stopped, when my pitiful plea reached his ears, he stopped his ministrations and was abruptly looking down at me. His eyes were a deep black, though I knew it was not from hunger of the blood thirsty kind. He seemed to think over his decision to stop, staring down into my tear filled eyes. I could not be sure, but I believed I spied a hint of regret, hiding in his eyes as they cleared to their usual tone. He collected himself, standing up and morphing across the room within seconds. In the blink of an eye, he was pulling on his jacket, never meeting my eyes.

"Don't go," I begged, voice unbelievably soft as I grasped the covers of the bed up and around my exposed chest. The phrase seemed to strike a nerve with him, though it took me a few moments to realize why. It was a phrase he had mockingly pointed out I had used in my sleep, though I was sure the plea was much more desperate now, than it had been, then. He turned to look at me for a fraction of a moment, narrowing his eyes at me for millionth time that day, before walking out the door and leaving me shirtless and alone.


	5. Sincerely

C H A P T E R | _F I V E  
Author's Note_: My reviewers are love. You're all so wonderfully kind! Please, keep the commentary coming. It's awesome to hear from you guys. Speaking of which, I had a few requests for this to come from James' POV, and though it's an intriguing idea and one I might try out later, but for now, it's going to remain in Bella's POV. I don't want to give away _too_ much of our favorite bad boy's motives... yet. ;)

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The time had passed excruciatingly slow after James walked out of our hotel room, worldlessly.

His absence gave me time to think, to mull over what I did and did not regret. The list seemed to define itself clearly and quickly, by my standards. First and foremost, I had come to the conclusion that I did not regret taking my chances with James. It was dangerous, foolish, even, and out of character for me. I could not regret allowing him to kiss me the way he had, although I would not pretend I had much of a choice, once he had begun. I did not regret asking him to stop, knowing my limits and likely knowing his. Things did not need to progress any further in that instant, nor could they, safely. I knew better than that, regardless of what I wanted, at the moment.

The one thing, the only thing I regretted was not trying harder to persuade him to stay. Though the time his absence allotted me was put to good use, it was also time in which my mind could drive me up a wall, filling itself with all manner of horrible conclusions. Between the moment he left and the moment he arrived, my mind had run through the possibilities that he was never going to come back, that he would come back and kill me, that he was out killing someone else to assuage his rage that should have been directed at me. The sickening part of that sad equation, however, was that I did not know which one frightened me more.

The night was cold and I refused to go shirtless as I waited for him to return, the awkwardness of the situation completely beyond words. I found a spare shirt of his, the same shirt I had washed, and ignore the blood stains as I made due with what I had. I tried with all my might not to think of the person who's blood still painted my attire, or the painful way in which they died. Most of all, I tried not to think about joining that person in the same fate, if James had not cooled off.

Somewhere in that night, I allowed sleep to overcome me. It was not a peaceful sleep as it had been the night before, due to an obvious lack of marbleized man in my bed. It was more pleasant, still, than sitting awake the whole night through, waiting for James to stroll through the door. It was a wish I was not sure was going to be fulfilled, one that I did not need to rest all my hopes on. Still, after having rehashed the details so many times, the facts were hard to dispute. I needed him for survival, and, now, I needed him, in more ways than one. I had more at stake, now, if he decided not to return. My sleep was deep, uninterrupted for the most part, until I heard the door to the room slam hard. I bolted upright in bed, searching wildly around myself, seeing nothing. As silent as the dead, James appeared at my bedside. He extended an armful of something to me, never speaking a word. I would not have believed it was truly him, had the glowing eyes and silent glare not tipped me off.

"You came back," I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I peered over at the bedside analog clock - 3:05 A.M., it read. There was no use pretending I truly cared what the time was, so long as he had returned. I accepted the bundle he handed to me, blinking several times at it before realizing what it consisted of. Clothing, several shirts and a pair of jogging pants, bound together with a length of string. I looked up at him, only to have him look away.

"Change," he instructed gruffly, his making eye contact reserved for moments few and far between. He kept his eyes off of mine as he circled around to the other side of the bed, sitting with his back to mine. I nodded and withdrew to the bathroom, fervently trying to keep my mind off of the previous owner. I could not ignore the holes in the shirts or the few rips in the pair of pants, all hope of calling them new dashed. I changed slowly, not sure I truly wanted to see what was on the other side of the door. The shirt fit fine, too snug, if anything, though the pants were another story. They would settle no higher than my the swell of my hips, leaving an ambiguous inch and a half of flesh exposed, from the hem of my shirt to the top of my pants. _Perfect_, I thought sarcastically. _Let's add to the sexual tension in the room._

Soon, when I realized I could not pretend to be changing for much longer, I exited the bathroom. He was sitting in the oversized armchair, one foot on the floor and the other propped up on the arm of the chair. My guess was that he had been out hunting, for sport rather than necessity. His feet were dirty as usual, leading me to wonder how he managed to slip by unnoticed and barefoot. Not much consideration was given to that, however. My concentration was ensnared by the bizarre look in his eyes. He was watching me, as usual, though not in the same fashion he typically did. Usually, his eyes were scanning for any sign of a plan to escape, any small out of place detail. They looked more puzzled than suspicious, at that moment.

"The clothes, they fit?" he asked disinterestedly, his chin resting on his fist. I nodded and examined them for myself, again trying to ignore the condition in which they had been given to me. I did not know how to fill the silent void that swallowed up the room, a harsh change of pace from the ignited feeling that had been in the air, just before he left. I knew things had gotten out of control afterwards, but was I _so_ bad of a person for wanting the affection and passion we'd glimpsed at back again? I was much too timid to initiate any such thing, though that did not stop me from hoping he would not be. I took a seat on the edge of the bed closest to him, waiting for the conversational ball to begin rolling, again.

"Where did you go?" I asked, minutes later, when I had decided he would not speak to me first. He had been sitting, an immobile piece of stone, looking on at me, all the while. I could not deny my curiosity about where he had disappeared to, or why he had, at all.

"Since when is_ that_ any of your concern?," he questioned sharply as he lifted a brow, obviously in no mood for a discussion of his whereabouts. I shrunk back slightly, pulling my legs beneath myself as I sat on the bed. It took a few moments before I could muster the confidence to venture another question, and even when I did, my eyes remained glued to the bedspread beneath me. I traced circles and abstract shapes on it as I spoke, though I could feel his eyes on me.

"Did I do something wrong? Before, I mean," I clarified, quietly. I lifted my eyes to his as I finished the sentence. His eyes were already level with mine, our foreheads touching, before I could make sense of the way my depth perception had been thrown off. I swallowed hard as he chuckled darkly, brushing his nose against mine several times, on purpose.

"You played directly into my hands. I _had_ you, all mine, ready and willing to go. Such easy snack and definitely one of my most favorite game pawns... It would have been so easy, you know?" The statement was painted with something very close to remorse, rather than the delight I expected to hear there. He pressed me down, climbing on top of me and gripping my neck with considerable pressure. He growled, an almost inaudible noise rising up in him, and released my throat, thumb brushing back and forth over my pulse point, instead. I shivered, though I tried to remain calm and collected, heart hammering away in fear of the only logical conclusion that sort of conversation seemed to have.

"You gave in, more than I ever expected you to," he murmured, biting down on my earlobe hard enough to hurt, yet still a notch below breaking the skin. His free hand roughly secured itself in my hair, a sharp contrast with the surprisingly soft, cold kisses he began placing down my neck. Of course, every gentle kiss was met with a more harsh nip, never allowing me to get too used to be treated as though I were so fragile. "I wasn't prepared for that kind of reaction, an it isn't often I'm caught off guard."

"I didn't mean - " I began to apologize, his mouth encompassing mine, roughly cutting me off mid-sentence. My first instinct was to reciprocate the kiss, his answering kiss only slightly less forceful as it had been when he left, the first time. The impression his touches left were mind blowing, though I knew a handful of them would bruise before the next day. Still, I had never been handled that way, so sure and real. None of the fleeting, featherlight touches I had experienced before. Each and every touch was something I felt both in the moment and for several afterward. He pulled back after several long moments of quick, hard kissing, allowing me time to breathe. It was impossibly to do so properly, but the rush of air to my burning lungs was comforting, nevertheless.

"Ah, ah. I was not finished, and you will not interrupt me again," he warned as he pulled away, sinking his teeth into my lip to reinforce that message. He rolled his eyes slightly at me and continued to explain his rundown of what had happened before he made such a quick exit, before. It was a story I was anxious to hear, though one that was difficult to concentrate on, from my current position, trapped beneath him. He trailed his hand further down, quickly scanning over the swell of my breast before continuing down and finally resting on the exposed region of my hips that the damned shirt and pants failed to meet at. "Your little surprise was not factored into my plans, though, I've got to admit, it complimented them. If you're going to play along, this can be much, much better than I anticipated."

He was talking in circles, as far as I could tell, though he seemed pleased with himself. The smile he spoke with was shattering, his eyes more lighthearted than it was when he had begun speaking. I patiently waited for him to continue, attempting to obey the rule that I was not to jump in on his sentences, though he seemed finished, for the moment. When I was fully sure he was not going to take offense at my speaking, I continued, voicing the thing that had irked me from the second he began offering up so much information.

"But when you left, you were angry with me," I insisted, still trembling slightly with fear, as I was sure I would continue to, so long as I was pinned beneath a temperamental vampire. He smacked me in the lip with a light flick of his wrist, only enough to indicate that I was being stupid. I knew this action was wrong, that the fact that I accepted it, even worse. The most despicable part of the whole ordeal was the fact that his dominance, his sheer power over me and control over himself, threatened to make me combust, at any moment. It made me want him, made me feel as though I _needed_ him, more than I was willing to admit to myself I did.

"What a silly, niave human. So much like the rest, in the way," he purred, disappearing from above me and reappearing beside me, tilted slightly in my direction. His fingertips grazed the small stretch of skin below the hem of my shirt, though that barrier was becoming less and less defined at time went on. He was slowly inching up my shirt over my stomach, and by the time he spoke again, he was scratching circles around my exposed navel. "If I were angry with _you_, do you honestly believe you'd have a single doubt that I was?"

His tone had been menacing, enough so that I answered quickly and decisively, shaking my head. My speed seemed to please him and he grinned, appreciatively. His smile was short lived, however. His face turned abruptly serious, blood hued eyes locked on mine as he weighed something internally. Brushing stray strands of hair from my face, he stared down at me, lips pursed slightly in thought.

"I _was_ angry. Furious, actually. Practically ready to rip your precious little throat out." He traced a line, which I could only assume was a vein, in my neck. I shuddered, again to his approval. That move seemed to encourage him to explore, resulting in him dipping his head and placing his ice cold lips against my warm throat. Those kisses turned to soft bites, the bites and kisses trading off with one another before he decided to speak, once more. When he did, however, his voice was quiet and serious. "That was the problem, precisely the problem. I haven't had enough fun with you to be finished..." His kissed my lips softly, pulling back and grinning wickedly.

"Yet."


	6. Too Far Gone

C H A P T E R |_ S I X_  
_Author's note: _As always, thank you to my kind reviewers! Hopefully this chapter will keep you guys as happy as the others have. Happy reading. :3

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_Yet_. That word lingered in my mind, haunting me for the rest my waking hours. Thankfully, those were of short supply, not giving me an abundance of time to wreck my nerves attempting to sort out every implication of that word. There were many possibilities that arose from it, some more pleasant than others, and some I could not bring myself to think about, in the slightest. My eyelids began to grow heavy and I decided not to fight it. I had a theory, that sleep would help to block all the unpleasantness out, that my dreams would not be filled with the same frenzied thought processes as my conscious had been.

"Sleep," James murmured, voice coaxing and warm. He pulled me into his arms, holding me immobile against his side and pressing his lips to the crown of my head. It was a shockingly gentle move, and the fact that it was not followed up quickly by something slightly more painful surprised me even further. The physical affection was addictive, I was slowly remembering. Every kiss, every fleeting touch, no matter how harsh, strummed my heartstrings and left me waiting for more. Sleep suddenly seemed an unneeded interference with this new found obsession, one I intended to stave off as long as possible. If I had not been halfway to sleep already, the slight threat in his next words would have chilled me. "You're going to need it, tomorrow."

I found I did not need more convincing in order to find sleep in his arms, though the way he held me was anything but softly. I was crushed against his stone chest, held tightly against him as though he were afraid I'd attempt to slip away, in the middle of the night. Sleep came much to quickly and deeply for me to consider such a thing, and even if it had not, I was almost positive escape would not have crossed my mind.

---

My awakening was decidedly less short and sweet than the way he had lulled me to sleep. It did not, of course, take long for me to obey his instructions and wake myself up, showering and dressing quickly. Most alarm clocks had worked favorably for me throughout life, and those of a vampiric nature definitely did not fail to get me out of bed. I had not taken much time showering or dressing, the frustration in James' voice evident from the moment he pulled me awake. This was, apparently, no day to be defiant or out of line, and thus, I had not even asked why I was being ordered around.

"What is it?" I asked, worry coloring my tone, as I watched him set about the room, collecting our artifacts and others that did not belong to us in a duffel bag he kept at his side. He did not pause to consider my question, continuing to erase our presence from the room, for whatever reason. The swiftness of his moves and calculation of everything he did only served to unnerve me further.

"Surely you didn't think we could stay _here_ forever, princess." His tone was mocking and I could practically feel him rolling his eyes, though he did not lift his to mine until after he had spoken. When he did, however, he caught a blank, frightened expression hanging on my features. I was not sure how it had failed to occur to me, but the thought of leaving had not entered into my equation, when I made the decisions I had made. It had been something more along the lines of a vacation, not a permanent agreement, when I had professed that I would not, could not, leave James. That seemed to register with him and his expression blackened in an instant as he strode closer at a lazy, human pace.

"Oh, now, now," he cautioned, a hand slipping into my hair with a strange softness that only made me worried. It did not match the look he wore on his face. "We wouldn't want to make a liar out of ourselves, would we? Someone _promised_ they would not try to leave."

He examined my frightened face, staring down at me from his considerable height advantage. I had told him that, in all truthfulness. I had agreed not to try and escape him, even going so far as to detail the ways I needed him for survival. Though the things I had said were of nothing but the most realistic and truthful variety, I had not thought them through, properly. I had not factored in other people who would be touched by the ripple effect my decision carried. Charlie, Renee, my friends, and, though this seemed naught but wishful thinking, Edward and his family. And then there were the secondary ripples - school, life in Forks, Phil, the fact that this would all look like a disappearance. I was eighteen, of course, perfectly legal and capable of crossing what lines that were drawn in the sand, as well as I liked to. Still, the remorse that wracked me at the thought of leaving without so much as a goodbye, without allowing anyone information on where I was, who I was with. Anything.

"What about my father? My mother... all of my things, everything is in Forks," I muttered, biting back the hysteria I was currently experiencing, inside.

"You've gone to far to begin doubting this now," he growled low in my ear, pulling my head forcefully in his direction until his lips met my temple. Tears were forming in my eyes as he breathed cool air over my skin, a mixture of fear and being overwhelmed, at the moment. He turned my jaw, bringing our eyes level with one another as he continued to speak, this time. His eyes were hard, his stare unforgiving and immovably fixed on my moist eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Bella. Lover Boy won't welcome you back with open arms and neither will his little family, not after all of this. Fraternizing with the enemy and all. Secondly, you need to remember one simple fact... you don't belong to him, anymore."

I trembled, somehow pleased with the latter portion of his sentence, though I attempted not to let that show.

"Who do I belong to, then?" I asked timidly, my voice shaking. I was wondering slightly if I had mistaken the meaning of that sentence, though I was half hoping I had not. Much, much more than half, if I was being honest with myself. My heart thrummed loudly in my chest as he smiled evilly down into my eyes, his fingertips trailing from my hairline to the tip of my chin in one silken movement before I found myself backed against a wall, his hands on either side of my head, firmly planted on the wall.

"Hm, you're a forgetful little creature, aren't you?" he teased, lips brushing mine for a fraction of a second before they moved swiftly down my jaw, lingering on my neck before exploring the skin that the low, boat necked sweater he had afforded me exposed. My heart went from beating a million miles per millisecond to suddenly palpitating in the most erratic way I envisioned possible. He worked his way back up quickly, pausing to kiss my lips so roughly I could feel them turning white against the stone that were his lips.

"You." He spoke with a purpose, looking directly into my eyes with the sense of ownership he was professing. "Are mine. No one else's. _Mine_. Is that clear?"

My heart rate flat lined when the words left his mouth, though I managed a dumbfounded nod. I had once been such a headstrong girl, stubborn and clearly set on my own path. And yet, in the moment that he declared possession over me, none of my previous worries matter. Charlie and Renee would receive a letter, a phone call, smoke signals, something to tell them I had made some harebrained decision and was alright. My friends would learn to live on without me, as I assumed would not be the predicament of the century. Edward and his family would have to remember that _they_ left _me. _I was going to make my own decisions, based on what felt right, for once. It did not look as though James was offering much of an alternative, anyway.

"There's a good girl," he praised me, smiling almost arrogantly as he left me stunned, leaning against the wall as he gave the room a once over. He carried a duffel bag and a small backpack with ease, opening the door and gesturing for me to exit in front of him. "I've got a car waiting for us."

I followed him down the stairs and to the office, where I waited outside as he checked us out of our room. There was something unsettling about the way he interacted with other humans. He was as beautiful and ethereal looking as any other vampire, though he did not have the lightness about him that the Cullen family had, nor the dark circles beneath his eyes. His eye color was not as easy to detect unless he had immediately hunted, I had noticed, but it was still there. The host at the counter moved about like he was dealing with a wild animal, though he did not seem to know why. There was something inherently dangerous about James, though one would not be able to decipher just what, unless they had met his kind, before. In a few short moments, he was exiting the office, a pair of keys in his hand.

"It's that one," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me towards a black car across the parking lot, one of the few in the small area. I nodded, though it did not seem enough appreciation for his standards. His voice was incredibly smooth and condescending as he spoke again. "It's a nineteen sixty-five Ford Mustang. Show some respect."

"It's... nice," I threw out there, giving a slight shrug. He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. He dropped my hand and began piling our things into the trunk, allowing me a moment to lose myself in thought. This car, like everything else he had provided me with, had been stolen. It had come at the duress and persuasion that only the blade of a knife, or in this case, a set of teeth, could provide. I scolded myself for immediately jumping to that conclusion, though my heart knew better than to second guess that assumption. I led myself around to the passenger side and climbed in, waiting only a handful of seconds before he joined me.

The car rumbled to a start beneath us, purring to life, much to James' satisfaction. He drove with the same speed and ease as any other vampire I had ever encountered, leaving me little to worry about as he navigated the streets in near silence, save the radio turned to some classic rock station. I did not speak for quite some time, attempting to process in bulk everything we were doing. I belonged with James now, someone who seemed to take much pleasure in that fact, someone who would not let me go, even if that was what I wanted. The responsibility of staying by his side was now going to carry me to God Knows Where, leaving my friends, my family, and what should have been my family, far behind. Somehow, I could not bring myself to regret that. I could have been intoxicated by finally being desired again, by having someone who would act on impulse and show me the full force of those desires, but I knew one thing for sure.

There was no turning back.


	7. Claim What's Yours

C H A P T E R | _S E V E N_  
_Author's Notes:_ Well, here we are, chapter seven, where we've got a surprise guest popping up for Bella and James. Thank you to all the reader support that's been pouring in. It certainly inspires me to write and get these chapters out there, more quickly!

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"We've got to make a little pit stop by your place," he informed me, eyes on the road at all times as he brought us closer and closer to the street Charlie lived on. He turned down a side street, removing one hand from the wheel and resting it on my upper thigh and squeezing it in a way I assumed was supposed to come off reassuringly. "I'll park far enough away so that Daddy won't notice, and we'll go from there."

My palms began to sweat, slightly. I was not sure I could be so close to my father without making some attempt to contact him, to try and help ease the worry I was sure was going through his mind. I was not sure I could sneak into Forks, into Charlie's house, no less, and out without making some mistake, some contact with them. It seemed cruel, heartless even, after I had left with Edward, so long ago. I had broken Charlie's heart once, and mine was breaking at the thought of doing it again. He had been nothing but good to me, and I was poised and ready to undo everything between us. This would have to be made out to be my fault, my personal choice to run off with 'some boy', and leave Forks. It could have nothing to do with him, this time. And yet, this did not solve my other Forks related issue. My scent, as well as James', would be all over the trail we left, putting both his plan and my life in potential danger. Then there was Renee, and Phil... So much to consider that I had hardly taken into account, before. Of course, James had made it clear that he was not giving me up, now.

"Listen to me," he commanded, putting the car in park in a small enclave near the house. His voice was surprisingly soft but full of authority, all the same, brooking no arguments. He placed his thumb on my chin and his hand under it, tilting my face towards his as he spoke to me from the driver's seat. "You will not go to him for help, or to anyone else, while we are here, in Forks. I don't believe it would bode well for your father or anyone else, if they got in the way of our fun."

"I'm not sure I can do this," I murmured almost silently, my eyes falling to my lap. He snapped my chin up once more and glared deeply into my eyes, scarlet orbs burning.

"You will do this, like it or not," he said dangerously, kissing my lips roughly before pulling away. I understood the unspoken warning in that - I would be doing exactly what he asked of me, or I would not live to make another foolish decision, such as doing otherwise. I nodded without words, unable to form a coherent response to his instructions. I desired him more than anything, his taste the most addictive substance I had ever come across, and part of me did not believe I could stand being separated from him, at that point. Of course, I had thought the same thing about Edward, and he had abandoned me. I had loved him wholly and unrelentingly, and yet, that had amounted to nothing. James, I knew, would never leave me. He would take great pleasure in ending my life, perhaps, but never would he go without doing so.

"We go the rest of the way on foot," he announced, killing the engine. He shrugged off his jacket and out of the car, to the passenger side door within a second or two, pulling me from my seat. I balked at the notion of completing the entire walk on foot, especially in the daylight hours, where we could be seen. He read my expression and smiled slightly, grabbing me firmly around the arm and slinging me onto his back, like luggage. I was used to the feeling of flying at one point, though now, it worked it's nauseating magic on me. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, burying my face in James' neck as we glided through the forest. The scent of his bare skin was not at all out of place in our surroundings, I noticed, and neither was his experience with that kind of environment.

When we reached my house, James did not stop. He continued right up the tree that spiraled up beside my window, leaving me to hang in the breeze for a half a second before pulling me inside my room. I had been gone for only a handful of time, and yet I could not place how I had lived in such emptiness. All the mementos of Edward had been removed by his hand long ago, and I had never replaced them with anything else. It was a depressing, dull place that lacked life. James seemed to note this as he curiously picked at what few things did decorate my walls. I, on the other hand, was busy shoveling clothes into my backpack, after I had dumped all the school related junk out of it. I planned methodically, packing both warm and cold appropriate clothing, enough to make several outfits.

Suddenly, all of James' movement stopped, a feral growl ripping from his throat. He sniffed the air tentatively, his face distorting into a twisted expression of anger. Clearly, a complication had arisen. I quickly zipped my backpack, otherwise frozen on the spot. Trouble for James meant trouble for me, of this I was well aware.

"We're leaving," he said, with the most grave seriousness, "Now."

He did not waste time in pulling me onto his back, flying from the window without bothering to do it carefully. We flew through the forest, backtracking our steps the way we had come. I did not bother wasting my breath and asking him what had set him off. James was a tracker, he knew trouble when it reared it's ugly head. I had to trust that the closer I was to danger, the further I was from harm. I was, apparently, a possession of James', and there was no way he would allow harm to come to me, unless he was the one doling it out.

"It seems we aren't as alone as I planned," he muttered, voice slightly pleased, somehow. He came to an abrupt stop in the trees, just before the road. He slid me from his back quickly, taking a defensive stance in front of me as he scanned the road. I could not see anything, not a person or unusual object in sight, though it did not surprise me that he found something amiss. He took my hand and pulled my against him, staring down at me and showing his teeth in frustration. "You will do exactly as I say, until I tell you otherwise. Is this clear?"

I nodded, fully intending on complying with my agreement. He nodded once and I leaned up to kiss him, for once initiating my own contact. He merely grunted and pulled me along, locking our fingers together as we drifted at a pace slightly above a human walk, meeting the road. Rejection seethed in me, though I soon understood why he had refused my offer, one which had seemed so tempting to him, the evening prior.

In the middle of the road, waiting with burning golden eyes and bared white teeth, was Edward.

I did not believe my eyes, initially. I was sure that I was imagining things, that I was truly losing my marbles. It would not have been the first time I had imagined Edward in a place I knew he should not be, nor the first sign that I was going crazy. It would have seemed plausible enough, had James not acknowledged my hallucination. He strode forward, chuckling wickedly as he paced a stretch, right before Edward, who's eyes never left me.

"Well, well, well," James taunted, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, casually. "Look who we've got here. It's practically a family reunion."

Edward growled deep in his chest, lurching forward slightly as I felt James twirl a strand of my hair around his finger. It was driving Edward mad, this I could see, and yet, I could not bring my heart to break for him. It was quite possible that I did not believe he was truly a tangible being, and it was even more likely that my heart reminded me how little he had cared for breaking mine. I stood my ground beside James, pretending for a moment that I could have moved, if I wanted to. I was possibly less expendable to him than I had been, once, but that did not mean he would stand for allowing me to belong to anyone else. If I refused to allow him to have me, I had a sneaking suspicion no one would.

"Bella," Edward chided, his tone painted with disbelief and disapproval as he stepped forward a pace. His heart appeared to be breaking in his chest, his eyes looking as though they longed to be able to cry. "What are you doing? What has he done to you?"

"She _left_ with me," James informed him, delighting in how the word rolled off his tongue. Edward's eyes were steadily blackening, I could see, promising ill things for the short time to come. James' smile was unabashed, telling the entire world how proud he was of his accomplishments, at that moment. "And she's _leaving_ with me, today."

"The hell she is," Edward growled, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles whitened, even more than usual. The tendons in his hand looked as though they were struggling against his fury to break through, and I shrunk back into James' side. He hushed me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, eyes locked on Edward. Edward's face blanked completely and my heart shattered. I was remembering all the reasons I had loved Edward - his gentlemanly ways, the delicacy of his touches, the depth of his devotion. It washed over me like a crippling wave, pulling at each and every one of my heartstrings, threatening to snap them all. I took a step forward, feeling James yank me back to his side.

Edward sprung too quickly for my eyes to catch it, too quickly for his emotions to be regulated by logic. He landed precisely where I had been standing with a crushing blow. Though I had half expected to be thrown in front of James, a literal human shield, though what honestly happened was quite different. James threw me behind him, arms outstretched in a line of protection around me. Edward leaped forward to knock James to the ground, landing squarely on top of him with a bloodcurdling snarl. The moved too fast from there for me to keep up properly, though I could see that Edward seemed to keep the upper hand. He was faster than James, all three of us present knew as much. The tension became too much, though I could not pick a side. I would never have wished a hair on Edward's head to be harmed, though I currently felt as though my heart was shattering at the thought of James hurt, either.

"Please," I screamed when I could no longer hold my tongue for my own good, surprised by the absolute sincerity of the desperation that colored my tone. I approached the fight, much too close for my own safety. It distracted Edward long enough for me to plead with him. "Edward, please, don't hurt him."

Edward looked up to me incredulously, quickly moving off of James in his shock. James stayed down for the moment, allowing me to speak with Edward, who drew closer. I heard a low growl from James as I met Edward half way, his hands resting on my forearms.

"You can't possibly _care_ about him," he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing together as he shook me slightly, trying to shake some sense into me, I imagined. "He's a _killer_, Bella, and he will kill you. I'd hate myself everyday if I allowed him to live, if he hurt you... He's brainwashed you, don't you see that?"

Edward brushed my cheek softly and I flinched at his touch. He looked heartbroken at that, though I did not feel any pang of apologetic sadness at that. He had been the one to give up the right to touch me that way, the one who had left me. I had never willingly given up so much as a bat of an eyelash, savoring every single thing he allotted me during our time together. I had died and been reborn, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. The problem with the scenario at hand was that James had been the wind on which my wings rose. Without him, I would have still been alone, wasting away in the darkness Edward had cultivated for me.

"Edward, _you_ hurt me. You left me, and it's too late." Cold, wet tears snaked down my cheeks as I took a step away from him. Anger was rising in me now, anger I had never fully acknowledged. It was always much easier to forgive Edward than be angry with his Angel's face. Not this time, however. I had to communicate that I wanted "I looked for you, every night, even after what you did to me, and you were never there. _He_ was. I looked for you and I found him."

"But I love you," Edward murmured softly. "I left _because_ I love you. Don't you see that? We can't be together. We couldn't then and we can't now. I only want to keep you safe, you've always known that. But you don't want this... Please, Bella, tell me you don't want him."

James was on his feet now, standing on the side of me that Edward was not. I felt his fingertips brush back my hair, drawing my attention towards him as he spoke. "Yeah, Bella," he said, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, "tell him you don't want me."

My voice died in my throat, though I knew I had to answer, one way or another.


	8. The Choice is Made

C H A P T E R | _E I G H T_  
_Author's Notes:_ As always, thank you guys immensely for the reviews! Hopefully this chapter lives up to your expectations of the Bella/James/Edward scene and whatnot. As usual, let me know what you're thinking!

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_

There were two distinct and very possible outcomes to whichever answer I gave.

If I chose the path that I had entered the situation planning to, there was the extremely real possibility that Edward would, in turn destroy James and leave me with nothing. My heart was splintering to pieces in my chest as I weighed my options. I could be honest and risk the chance that Edward had become bitter and vengeful, though I did not believe that, in all honesty. Still, there was the nagging voice in the back of my head warning me not to trust the way I was feeling about James. I had seen what I had once had with Edward was real, without a doubt. Thus far, there had been only hours and strong feelings to prove _any_thing about the way I felt for James was a reality.

"Edward," I murmured, tears falling more quickly than ever, at that point. His eyes lit up with hope, and I covered my mouth with my hand, giving myself a moment to collect myself. I glanced back at James, whose eyes continued to glare back at me. I turned my apologetic eyes back to Edward, who waited impatiently for me to continue the sentence I had begun. Instead, I merely begun again. "Edward, I will always love you, somehow. Every day for the rest of my life, even. But I can't love you the way I _did_, forever."

"That doesn't mean you have to stoop to _this_. You can be happy with someone normal, a human, Bella. Someone who can _love_ you," he hissed, motioning briskly at James, whose chest rumbled with the thunder of a growl. I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head and willing myself to stop crying. I could not appear weak while delivering my next piece of information, I had to stand my ground. He would mistake weakness for not having been completely sure of what it was that I was saying.

"_You_ could have loved me, you always could have. My God, you still _could_, if you only wanted to. Whether it's love, lust, fear, or insanity, I'm not sure, but James makes me feel something," I explained, eyes pleading with him to listen and understand, though I knew that he would not, regardless of how well I articulated it to him. "I haven't felt anything, anything at all, for so long now, Edward. You can't walk away and leave me without, then come back to conveniently check on me when you disapprove of something. This is my decision, and my mind is made up."

He did not understand, I did not expect him to. He had thought he was doing the right thing, becoming the big martyr and leaving me for a more righteous cause. He had not realized how badly it scarred me, how deeply it shook me to see him go. But he could not justify returning to caution me against making my own decisions when he had left me to do just that. He may not have enjoyed the choices I was making, but had I ever asked him to?

"Then say it," Edward demanded, tone more sharp than I could recall him using towards me before. "_'_I want him. I want James._'_ I want to hear it."

"I want James," I said, taking a deep, shaky breath. My hands were balled into fists as I spoke, attempting to control my emotions. It was quite possibly the hardest thing I had ever had to do, turning Edward away the way I had to, in that moment. In my heart of hearts, I knew better than to pretend my decision was not swayed by the fact that he had insisted that he and I would not be together, even now, if I left James. I was only human, after all. The world was too hard to go it all alone, and James was holding out his hand, welcoming me to join him. "I want to go with him, Edward. I want to leave Forks, and I want to be with James. Please, if you want me to be happy, if you love me, just let us go..."

I knew the latter part of my answer would tug on his heartstrings, that he would have no choice but to grant us safe passage, if only for the moment.

Absolutely crushed, Edward stepped to the side, moving from the middle of the street as he blocked us access to the car. I finally looked back to James, for the first time in what seemed like so long, only to find his face expressionless, stunned. He moved quickly to my side, leading me by the crook of my elbow to the car, past Edward, who made no move to stop us. It was only after we had passed by that Edward even spoke to James, again.

"I swear to God, James," he called, loudly enough for my ears and anyone else in the surrounding area to pick up on, "I _will _be watching. And if you hurt even one hair on her head, I _will_ finish what I started, a long time ago."

James did not look back and neither did I, finding myself getting shoved into the passenger seat of the car as everything faded around the edges. Every sound seemed far away, every sight seemed dulled, all with the distinct realization of just what I had done. I did not regret it, and yet, I still could not be as sure of it as I would have liked to be. Before I had a chance to glance back at Edward. My theory was that he was likely gone from sight, anyways. I felt my tears begin again, knowing that this would likely be the last time I saw Edward for quite sometime, assuming things went well. Things going well here having the meaning of my staying alive in James' company.

He brought the engine to a quick start, gunning the Mustang down the back streets until we hit a busier section. From there, we drove for what could have been hours, the rain and the dreariness never fading away as we made our way out of smalltown Forks and into the city. We drove in absolute silence as he weaved in and out of traffic, something that I was thankful for. Though I believed we both had plenty to say to one another about the experience we had shared, I was extremely grateful that neither of us was required to speak. If I attempted anything nearing verbal explanation of what I had just done, or even light discussion about it, I knew I would crack.

Somewhere along the ride, my tears subsided and sleep began to call. Sleeping had become a crutch for anytime I was experiencing more emotion than I could handle, an intermitent black out that I could enjoy between having to navigate the difficult trials I was currently having to in my waking hours. The car was not comfortable for sleeping in, but the ordeal with Edward was something I immediately and desperately needed to block out before dealing with James, the night through.

---

The first thing that registered in my sleepily confused mind was the feeling of being pulled from the car, crushed tightly to a stone chest. I wrapped my arms around James' neck, waking up slowly as he set me on my feet. I blinked, my vision hazy, as I took in my surroundings. We were in front of a rundown building in an area that seemed to house many of them, from what I could see. I looked up at James in confusion, he smoothed my hair down, in return.

"You need someplace to rest, food to eat. Besides, we can't drive all night, the tank's half empty," he answered my unspoken question, tone implying that I should have thought of these things. He crossed around to the trunk of the car and unloaded the three bags we had accumulated, which housed our food and clothing. He held out his hand and waited for me to take it, leading me towards the building beneath the blinking 'vacancy' sign, which was missing it's _N_. It was the first time I ever truly realized the difference between a hotel and motel could be so great, and yet, I was not very bothered by it. Sure, we were headed towards a flea bag of a room, but I somehow took comfort in the fact that _we_ were headed towards that room. It would not be as horrible or decrepit if James was there to make the best of it, with me.

He disappeared into the office and reappeared moments later with a room key, leading me up several flights of stairs before we hit the correct door. _B_14, it read, the four dangling a few inches lower than the rest of the numbers. He ushered me in, dropping our bags to the floor before glancing around the room, much the way I did. It was dingy and tiny, though I supposed it did not matter. There seemed to be a much more important tension between James and I than the level of stock we were putting in our accommodations. It took nearly an hour of silence, off and on comments about the crappiness of the motel room, small talk, for him to broach the topic I had been hovering on the edge of since the moment we got back into his car and drove away from Edward.

"You were quite impressive, today," he murmured, eyes scrutinizing as he joined me in the small kitchen, which was connected to the rest of the room. He perched lazily on a counter top as I proceeded to make microwavable macaroni and cheese, something that would pass as a hot meal. I numbly continued to mix my food, going through the motions as he watched me. "I half believed that you _did_ want to go away with me. Very good showmanship," he added, giving me a golf clap with a slight sneer.

"Showmanship?" I repeated, confused. I laid down the food I was preparing, turning and giving James my full attention. He hadn't believed the words that had come out of my mouth, I realized, all in one swift motion. He had thought I was talking, merely to convince Edward, for my sake. I was quite for a few long moments before I could draw it out of myself to speak again. "I meant everything I said, James. Every word."

"I'm sure you'll understand if I find that hard to believe," he said coldly, jumping down from the counter top at a slow, human-like pace. He stalked over to me, taking his time as he did. He leaned in to take in my scent at the hollow of my neck, dragging a line with his nose up further until his lips met mine. "Doesn't matter how delectable you smell, how unbelievable those lips are, or how much you wanted me _last_ night, I have a hard time buying that I'm on par with your precious little Edward."

"I told _him_ that I wanted you," I reminded him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he ran his thumbs over my cheekbones. He stopped, suddenly still and quiet, as he examined my eyes, closely.

"I don't have the powers to read minds, and I've told you at least once before about you humans and your last ditch efforts to keep alive," he pointed out, voice low and uncertain as he continued. I had never seen James nervous, and still had not, even in that moment, but he looked more close to it than ever before. "You're telling me you meant what you said, correct?"

"Every word," I answered, nodding quickly, my heart melting at the slow, arrogant smile that spread over his mouth as he sauntered back to the bed, crooking a finger and indicating me to follow. I did as I was asked, following without question, and still keeping my objections to a minimum, a negative, even, as he pulled me down onto the bed with him. I had meant everything I had said to Edward and to James, without exception. Not a word that had left my lips had been a lie, and I wanted everyone involved to realize that.

"Mm, why don't you tell _me_ how much you want me, then?" he asked, stretching out and allowing a self satisfied smirk to hang on his lips. He folded his hands behind his head and reclined, letting me settle into his side. I blushed at the thought, at first taking the request in a much more risque direction that was necessary. I recovered from that, though I still stumbled over my words as they attempted to come out.

"I want you enough to give up everything I had, and enough to run away with you," I answered, bringing an even broader smile to his face. In a slow, almost sensually graceful movement, he was over top of me, caressing my throat with feathery, uncharacteristic touches as he smiled mischeviously into my eyes.

"Enough to trust me?"


	9. Ungentlemanly Behavior

C H A P T E R | _N I N E_  
_Author's Notes: _I can't possibly say enough how much I appreciate everyone's reviews, good and bad. Classes and holiday stuff is about to kick up for me, and I'm not sure how often updates will come. I am sure they will not be few nor far between, but it may not be _as_ often I've gotten you guys used to. ;)

* * *

The words melted me - _'Enough to trust me?'_

I was unsure what he meant by that, though it earned an emphatic nod from me. The tone he had used would have had me agreeing to a nightlong reading of the phone book, as sensuous and velveteen as his voice had been. I understood then even better than before what Edward had once said about his kind, about them having been the perfect predator. It had not been as apparent with Edward, someone I knew and trusted not to hurt me, from the second we spoke. James was the opposition to that claim, someone who I _knew_ would hurt me, from the very beginning. And yet, against all logic and reasoning, I still entrusted myself to James' care, to be treated as per his wishes.

My heart pounded in my chest, thoughts flooding my head that were very out of place. Though I had recently given up pretending I did not want James in every sense of the word, and I was sure he knew this, I regretted that it was painted all over my face. It very much was, with my cheeks red and flushed, my chest heaving as I rose my hands above my head, holding onto the rickety headboard, as I awaited his securing my wrists together, as he seemed to be fond of doing.

"Mm, you _are_ a good girl, aren't you? A fast learner, so willing," he purred, a literal hum rising up in his throat as he gave me what appeared to be a once over of approval, licking his lips just once. He sat up for a half second, pausing only long enough to pull his shirt over his head in one swift movement. "Impressive, yes?"

I nodded stupidly as he complimented himself, stretching his arms out to allow me an excellent view of the body that loomed over me, his defined musculature cut from a sheer face of marble. He was beautiful, though that word seemed wrong on him, for so many reasons. James was gorgeous, as all vampires were, and yet, somehow, more irresistible than any mortal or immortal creature I had seen in all my life. The '_why_' in that situation was what I struggled with. I had loved Edward wholly and without reservation, and I had definitely wanted him in more ways than one, but never had I had such a burning, aching want for anything, in my life. As much as I wanted James, my body wanted him more. I could not blame this on his predatory prowess, though that definitely helped. I had to imagine that, even without that particular set of skills, James would exude pure sex, as he did then.

I reached a hand out hesitantly, stopping just before my fingertips brushed his carved stomach. I couldn't touch him that way, not without his permission. Thus, my hand hung there, fingertips outstretched, as I waited for any signal that I was allowed to continue. Just when my heart felt it would explode, dying to run my fingers down his smooth skin, I heard him chuckle from above me. His hand reached down to mine, forcefully pulling my wrist until my hand met his cold torso. I gasped lightly at the cold, he shuddered just as slightly from the warmth. My hand stayed in the same place he had placed it momentarily, allowing me to collect my barrings before I began to explore the marble smooth, rock hard planes of his stomach, my heart refusing to keep a steady pace as I did. I timidly brought my other hand up, each of them acting of their own accord.

James tilted his head back and closed his eyes as I dragged my nails lightly over his skin, letting out a noise I could only describe to another human ear as the rumbling purr of a tiger. The noise made my stomach flutter with something more barbaric than any butterfly, my face flushing red as I admired the uninterrupted view of his body. The sight of James shirtless was one that many people had seen, as he did love to flaunt his perfect body. Yet, it never once ceased to stun me, especially while he hovered over top of me, the way he was.

"Does that... feel good?" I asked, though I was fairly sure I knew the answer. I had never had the opportunity to touch someone that way, to draw out those reactions in Edward. These actions, from the way he was straddling me to the way I was being allowed to roam his body, were new in every sense of the word. A little positive reinforcement may have been what I needed to get over the last bit of self consciousness I was dwelling on, though that did not mean he was going to provide it to me. He opened his eyes reluctantly and stared down at me for a moment, almost perplexed, always curious.

"He never let you do this, did he?" he asked, voice alight with almost childlike glee. I hadn't the faintest idea _why_ that pleased him so, but I shook my head with the appropriate answer. He shook his head slowly, smiling as a small laugh escaped his lips. Suddenly, his eyes were back on mine, his hand guiding mine lower, past his navel, until they met the band of his leather pants. I gasped once again, though definitely not from the cold. He relished my reaction, suddenly hovering over me in one of his more quick, disconcerting movements. He grinned as though he were drunk, bringing a hand up to roughly muss my hair. "Then I'm guessing he never touched _you, _either?"

I was delirious at this point, well under the influence. Simply in no shape to be answering questions or inviting the trouble that would come from giving him an honest answer. I was not about to confirm his suspicions, though they were the truth. Edward had never allowed himself to get carried away, always caring more than James did, too afraid he would hurt me. James interpreted my silence as confirmation and practically giggled, obviously enjoying these revelations more than was prudent.

Without warning and without invitation, James was ravaging my senses. His mouth was everywhere in a quick blur - my neck, my shoulders, my jawline, the edge of my ear - nipping, licking, sucking against the skin he found. My breath came in short, tense gasps, or refused to come altogether, as he continued his lightening attack on my senses. I allowed my head to drop back and expose more of my neck, a dangerous invitation to extend to a vampire, but one I wanted more than air for my burning lungs. He groaned, an almost inaudible and surely accidental noise, and took advantage of my offer, frozen hard lips crushing themselves to my neck. He rocked his hips against me slightly, my pulse suddenly skyrocketing out of control as I bit down on my lip so hard that I drew blood. I did not taste it, smell it, even _feel_ it, for a moment. He noticed before I did.

It was not then but a mere split second after that he froze, his hands locking around my wrists with renowned force.

The look in his eyes was not one I could mistake, eyes black as the night's sky, furiously burning into mine as he squeezed my wrists tighter and tighter. I searched his face for answers to the confusion I felt, shock making my body go rigid. He no longer hungered lustfully for my body or for his own satisfaction, whichever it had been in the first place. His twisted, sickening face spelled out his truest, most primal want... _blood._ He inhaled deeply at the scent, his teeth bared as his cool tongue reached out and licked once along the shallow cut I had made. He moaned in a way that would have sounded perverse to any eavesdropper, though it only struck fear into my heart. Bloodlust was taking over and I was not sure I could do anything to assuage it, in too much shock, too much pain to attempt it.

"James," I begged, finding a fraction of my voice as his breathing stopped, the camouflage slipping. He was giving himself more and more over to his instincts, forgetting who he was. Or, remembering it more clearly than ever, depending on how you chose to look at such a thing. I looked at it from the point of view anyone who's bones were about to be snapped, whose life was about to be ended at the hands of a would-be love would see it. I felt hot tears sting my eyes as he continued to clamp down on my wrists, where I knew my bones would be splintering and shattering beneath his pressure.

"James, _please_," I pleaded, having less success this time than I had the first time he had seemingly lost control of himself. My words fell on deaf ears, on a mind consumed only by the all centering, all important need for sustenance. He growled more like the animal I knew dwelled within hm than I had ever heard or seen, his eyes glowing with rash excitement that refused to dim. My tears flowed freely now as he leaned down, mouth widened...

... and poised to bite.


	10. From the Edge

C H A P T E R | _T E N_  
_Author's Notes: _As usual, you are all much, much too kind! Your reviews are so praising, it's hard to believe you're actually commenting on _my_ writing. I appreciate each and every one. Thanks so much, and enjoy the chapter!

* * *

I waited for the pain that would come inevitably, bracing myself.

It would not be as it was supposed to be, as it would have been with Edward. It would be great pain, followed by blackness and whatever came afterward. There would be no eternity with my love or even a companion by my side. I would not reawaken to an immortal life because James would not stop himself. I readied myself, my tears making breathing more difficult than it already was, shaking like a leaf beneath his unrelenting grasp and his hellfire gaze. There was no nobility to my death, if it were really at his hand, this time. I had made selfish, desire filled decisions, and they had landed me in my exact predicament. I had tasted forbidden fruit, only to be expelled from the garden. I had to have realized before that my actions would have some consequence to them.

The pain in my wrists subsided, the weight of his body no longer crushing my lungs beneath him. It was a a merciful hand fate had dealt me, allowing his bite to be painless, this time.

I opened my eyes, expecting to be met with either flames or the cliche, white puffy clouds. My vision stabilized; I had never realized my personal heaven was the inside of a dingy motel room. Maybe I was in purgatory, instead. Of course, purgatory, heaven, nor hell would include James' remorseful, gripping howl, or his ripping in half the kitchen table, which had been screwed into the wall, previously. That image, I had to believe, would not be conjured up in my eternal resting place.

I reached up and frantically felt for the missing hunk of flesh, the puzzle piece that would be gone from the hollow of my throat, feeling nothing but my own skin beneath my fingertips. Warm, smooth, whole. He had stopped himself, brought himself back from the brink of my destruction. Somehow, in a situation in which I should have been absolutely gracious and in awe of his self control, I could only think, _why_?

He had killed so many in his lifetime as a vampire, and I was counting myself amongst the easiest catches he had ever ensnared. I was willingly in a bed beneath him, so many options laying before him, so many choices yet to be made. Kill me now, kill me later. Kill me slowly, be merciful. And yet, he had chosen the one option I never would have believed he would, had I not seen it with my own eyes - he wanted to let me live. Better yet, he _wanted _to keep me alive. If he had not _wanted_ it, in some way, I would have been dead, undoubtedly.

I watched him make short work of the table, smash a lamp against a wall, destroy the room like a rock star on a drug bender, although his teeth and nails played a more intricate role in the room's destruction. I might have had a fleeting notion to ask him to calm down, to quit running our check out bill sky high, if I had not known it would be the end of my life. On that principle, he was allowed to destroy whatever inanimate object his fingers could get a hold of, without hearing a peep from me. I cowered back against the headboard, cradling a pillow to my chest as though that would protect me, somehow.

It was fifteen minutes or less, the total time the room took to be dismantled, though it felt like hours upon hours. My heartbeat never slowed, my breathing never sped up, my eyes remained locked on him the entire time. He was beautiful even in his anger, his face a twisted scowl and yet more breathtakingly true to form than ever before. He was dangerous and stealthy, angry and fierce, unconsciously showing the rippling of his muscles with every tiny flex as he turned the already shoddy room to wreck and ruin. His roaring finally slowed to a dull growl, fading deeper and deeper into his chest as he calmed himself, very slowly. I waited to breathe until the black was fading from his eyes.

After a few moments, he gruffly pulled my wrists forward, examining the dark blooms that had already begun there. I would be wearing the evidence of his loss of self control for weeks to come, black and blue cuffs that decorated my wrists. He stared at my bruises, his lips tightening into a fine line before he dropped my arm completely. He stood up, pulling me by my shoulder, gently.

"We can't stay here, now," he said, the distaste at that fact obvious in his voice. He began his earlier process of raiding the room for small amenities that might be of use to one of us, later - soaps, shampoo, food, blankets - and shoving them into our bags. I understood the need for leaving, and understood even better why vampires of James' temperament chose to live outdoors, away from civilized humans. With mood swings such as those I had seen from him, I questioned how we were able to survive this long without making something of a scene. He finished his raid of the room rather quickly, knowing better than to stick around after the disaster he had created.

"Where are we going?" I asked, following after him as he fled the room, leaving the door unlocked behind him. He took to the stairs faster than I was able, or, rather, faster than I should have attempted. I managed, as usual, to slip over my own feet and fall a few steps, only to be caught, braced against James' arm that did not shoulder all of our bags. He glared hard into my eyes, though his were returning back to their normal scarlet hue. The black, angry veil was lifted, though his frustration was still apparent.

"Far away from here," he answered quietly, immediately turning around and walking more slowly down the stairs, allowing me to keep up. "Someplace we'll both be safe."

---

It was less than a half hour later when we arrived in a small clearing, nowhere in Washington ever too far from a well forested area. James' eyes had never left the road, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel so hard they visibly whitened. We did not speak, we did not listen to the radio, we barely breathed in one another's direction. He did not make much of a move to speak to me when we reached his ideal stalling place, preferring the lean against the car, eyes shut, face to the wind. He was still hauntingly beautiful, as mezmerizing when not in control of himself as when he was in control of us both.

"I was going to kill you," he finally spoke, startling me when he did. I had grown accustomed to the silence, so much so that I had stopped anticipating him speaking. His tone was flat and informatory, though not excessively moved. He finally turned to look at me, as he continued. "I didn't _almost_ kill you. I was _going_ to kill you."

I opened my mouth to speak, cut off my his continued ranting, as he paced back and forth, before me.

"I had it all under control until you had to _bleed. _And it smelled so good," he growled as though it were all my fault, his fists balling up at his sides. I knew my blood was sweet to all vampires, though it did not have the same potency it had for Edward, at one time. Even Alice, master of her self control, had complimented me once or twice on my tempting scent, and there I had been, parading it around in front of my most dangerous aggressor. He was a shark who I had poured buckets of blood in front of, expecting him not to bite.

"Why didn't you do it?" I asked, voice barely breaking a whisper. His eyes snapped up to mine, eyebrow knitting over top of them. I tucked a strand of his golden blond hair back into his carefully parted ponytail, looking into his eyes as I spoke. "What stopped you?"

"I've killed men, women, children... people of all sorts," he said dangerously, frightening me with his proximity to me once again. He cradled the side of my face in his hand, smiling very faintly as he recalled his past conquers. I shuddered at the thought, but recovered as he went on explaining. "I _wanted_ them all dead, if they ended up that way. I slaughtered them, enjoyed their pain, made them suffer, because it was _my_ choice, my game. Losing control dirties up the game, takes all the fun out. You're _my _toy, one I particularly do not want to break, unless it is on purpose," he murmured, encasing me in his arms as his kissed the top of my head.

"Why am I different, to you?" I asked, brow furrowing slightly as I tried with all my might to understand what set me apart, what made me worth an ounce of his self control. He seemed perplexed by my question and I felt obligated to clarify. "What makes me worth keeping, to you?"

"One little attempt on your life and, just like that," he snapped his finger with a roll of his eyes, "you've forgotten all the sweet nothings, all the things I've done for you. It's incredible."

It was my turn to look confused. I had not remembered sweet nothings in the first place, though I was guessing our takes on that particular subject were worlds apart, to begin with. I remembered growled, possessive declarations and bruises, not my ideal poetic romance.

"If there is one thing that is for certain in this life, it is that I get what I want, without question," he explained, though I still had trouble following his links and his train of thoughts. "If I had wanted you to die the first time we met count, you would have. If I had wanted your life to end in the hotel room, no one could have prevented it. It _will_ happen, precisely when I want it to."


	11. Questions to Be Asked

C H A P T E R |_ E L E V E N_  
_Author's Notes:_ I can't possibly say enough about you wonderful people who leave me such kind comments on this story! It's always a great feeling to get feedback on something personal like writing. But before I get into babble, I'd like to say, this story helps answer some of the questions about Victoria I've been getting. Hopefully this is up to my reader's standards!

* * *

It had been less than a week, though I had no idea. I had begun to slowly lose track of time, the more of it I spent at James' side.

My days and nights were successfully reversed, a problem that worsened each and every day that I spent with James. I slept in different beds every night, motels and hotels coming and going without much to distinguish them from the ones we had visited, already. The seats of the Mustang became another camp ground to me, James preferring to keep things on the move rather than allow our presence to stagnate in one place, too long. I understood the purpose of this, however – we were not alone. Edward was always just a step behind, guided by Alice's visions and his own mindreading skills, though we never saw him. He was a ghost, just as he had promised me once he would be. Though, unlike the respectful spirits, he was a presence in my life I could not ignore. I was learning to, though, primarily thought remembering whose hands were truly keeping me safe, who kept me flush with food, shelter, and a protector.

For all the traveling we had been doing, we seemed to have made it nowhere. I could only believe that James had a plan, though I would not dare to question it, either way. We had spent time in Olympia, Seattle, even some logging community on the outskirts of the state. It was now evening, the sun disappearing as we made the first stop we'd made all day. The gas station he had chosen was not one I personally would have picked, the super florescent and slightly dirty look of it not at all welcome. I knew the reason behind our stop, just before we hit the state border, was more than food and stretching. There was a certain phone call in order before I got too far from home, one that I could no longer hide from.

"Make this snappy," he instructed, jerking a thumb at the payphone we stood beside.

Though I knew my place was and would be with James, the notion did little to make the phone call I was to place to Charlie any easier. It had taken me this long to go through with it at all, knowing he was probably figuring me for dead, but still too afraid to pick up the phone. I was no longer being allowed a choice in the matter, James' hand shoving the payphone into mine.

"You will call him, or we will simply eliminate the problem he poses," James threatened, clamping down on my fingers until they curled around the receiver. I knew and shared his fears, that my father would involve the authorities, that he would place a missing person's report, something that would make headline news anywhere, let alone in Forks. I could see the worried faces now, practically hear the rumors that would spawn, ringing in my ears. Of course, the excuse I intended to give was not much less scandalous than what the townspeople would assume all on their own.

I breathed deeply, nodding my head in agreement. He released his hold on my hand and stared at me, intimidating me into following through with my promise. I inserted a few coins and dialed Charlie's familiar number, praying to any God who might be listening in that things would pass without an argument of epic proportions, that this would be easier than I expected it to be. I continued to hope and wish desperately, my pulse skyrocketing with every ring, which brought me closer to a rehearsed discussion I did not want to have.

Though I was living in sin with a man somewhat akin to the devil himself, in the eyes of some, blessings still showered upon me from time to time. The familiar speech that had been recorded on my father's answering machine for the past seven years played loudly over the telephone and I finally drew a breath. My hand was still shaking, James' eyes were still fixated on me, and I still had an important part to play, but I felt somehow relieved.

"Dad," I half gasped when the beep sounded, fumbling over my words. James motioned for me to continue, likely frustrated that I was not delivering the whole rigmarole we had planned out carefully. I continued without a guide, though I made sure to hit all the important parts.

"Charlie… I'm sorry about all of this, and for not calling sooner. I just wasn't sure how to say everything I've got to say. So I guess this is the easiest way, a message. I'm not in Forks, anymore. I didn't want to stay there," I paused in confusion as to where to go from there, earning me a sharp look for the lapse. Quickly, I continued. "It has nothing to do with Edward. It's someone else, I'm with someone else. I just… needed to see more than Forks, Dad. But please, don't worry. I'm safe, and everything. I'm – "

James slammed down the receiver. Taking it from me had been a piece of cake, his movements lightening quick, my reflexes even more disconnected than usual due to the emotions coursing through me. I glared daggers at James, who merely smiled back with the utmost cordiality.

"You said what you had to say," he informed me, shrugging off my concerns and twirling the Mustang's key ring around his index finger. He seemed utterly unmoved by my sudden swell of anger, not the least bit affected by it. "Believe me, Bella, breaking a heart is like breaking a bone. It's more entertaining to splinter it and watch your prey writhe in pain, but it's much more merciful to simply make a clean break."

"We aren't talking about bones, we're talking about my father. Breaking his heart was the exact opposite of what I was trying to do," I half shouted, flames of anger licking at my tone. I knew I had placed the last phone call to Charlie I would make for quite some time, possibly ever again, depending on the way things went. I had been attempting to let him down easily, to explain that I never wanted to hurt him, while covering up where I had really escaped to with a band aid of a lie.

Yes, there was another guy in the picture, and yes, I was off touring Washington State with him. The safety portion of my story? That may have been a slight exaggeration.

"Amazing," he murmured, shaking his head at me as a strange smile crept over his lips. He crossed his arms and examined me, slightly. "You don't even have to work at hurting those you wound the deepest. First Edward and his little coven, now your own father and you hardly realize what a cruel creature you, yourself, happen to be. Unrefined and marred by that damned conscience of yours, but hurtful, nonetheless."

I scowled at him, left reeling and searching in vain for some sort of a comeback. He would not take offence to being told what a sickening creature he was. The opposite, rather – he would likely revel in that sort of a 'compliment'. I did not view myself as hateful, certainly not the least bit cruel, when it really came down to it. I had never meant to hurt anyone, least of all Charlie. Edward's hurt had been brought on by his own decisions, though I suppose my choices had thrown some fuel on that fire. Still, had I truly shattered anyone's heart the way Edward had broken mine? He had gone so far as to do that, and yet I still viewed him with rose tinted glasses. Surely _I _could not be so much worse than him.

"You say that as if I rival you in breaking hearts," I murmured, defenseless other than that single, weak comment. He chuckled, seeing through my extremely flimsy comeback. It was more a statement of truth than the stinging remark I had intended it to be.

"Oh, I'm sure you do have a higher body count, in that sense. At least, if we're speaking about directly causing heartache," he said, speaking as he briskly lead me back to the car by the crook of my arm. He ushered me into the passenger seat before he crossed around to the driver's side, revving up the engine before continuing to speak. "Personally, I've never let someone live after ripping their heart out. I'm an extremely merciful creature, that way."

It was hard to imagine the same man who had ruthlessly beaten me and left me for dead was calling such an act merciful. I was well aware of his ego, however, and thus, likely believed the nonsensical words coming out of his mouth. I had not ripped out anyone's heart, the very description inaccurate when it came to what I had done. The feelings of some had been collateral damage, and I was sure the guilt would eat away at my heart for quite sometime, but I had not relished any of the pain I had caused. Every moment of it was heartbreaking for me, though the idea of hurting so many people with me as an instrument seemed to cause James absolute glee, at times.

I sat quietly in thought for a few moments at the least, attempting to find some way to back up my accusation. It dawned on me slowly, though I did eventually come to a full blown realization. He had left someone behind, the same way I had. He had been the leader of several, only to abandon them to pursue his own interests.

"What about your coven, James? About Laurent, about Victoria?" I asked, my tone presenting more of a challenge than was safe, by most standards. I was in the mood to push my limits, however, to see just how far out of line he would allow me to venture before snapping me back into place.

"What about them?" he countered, tone hard but eyes never leaving the road before us. He did not seem quite as perturbed as I had almost hoped the comment would make him.

"You abandoned them, you left them without a leader. And Victoria was supposed to be your mate," I reminded him, severely mistaking my boundaries at this point. I wanted a reaction from him, this much I was certain of. I could not deny I had a hint of curiosity as to just how the ordeal would affect his coven. It would give me a gauge as to what his deadline in toying with me might approach.

"Victoria," he hummed the name, chuckling darkly as he continued to maneuver the dimly lit and nearly empty road we continued down. "Victoria is an interesting creature. Intriguing, beautiful, and deadly. But incessant and clingy, all the same. She would have found a mate in Laurent, if only he'd been the leader in our coven."

"I didn't think it worked that way," I replied, sounding severely uneducated for someone who had spent a majority of her time with a large family of vampires, at one point. The way I understood the notion of mates, in their world, was much the way I understood imprinting in Jacob's kind. To my knowledge, one could not help the person who became the object of their affection, nor could that person change. It had all been explained in a very soul mate sense, to me.

"It doesn't," he replied, disinterestedly. The notion that the flaming redheaded Goddess I had seen in the clearing that day did not love him for the creature he was did not seem to stir him, much. She had certainly seemed attached to him, by my observation. Of course, I could have been wildly off base with that assumption. I was not a vampire, nor could I read minds. "Victoria's mate was never of my world, or yours. Power, survival, instincts – those are her suitors. As engrossed as she became with me, I find it difficult to believe she will not move along with her life, now that I have left."

"And Laurent?" I pressed, my emboldened sense of argumentativeness dying down, considerably. I was more genuinely curious that I had been, before.

"Laurent joined me simply because he was frightened not to. I may be younger than him, but I surpassed him in every sense of the word," he answered, smiling confidently at his own praise. I could not help but agree at that point. James was one of the most lethal creatures I had ever encountered, creative and intelligent when it came to the planning of an attack, yet ruthless and despondent when it came to carrying it out. He was the embodiment of a killer, as much as I tried to ignore that fact.

"Do you plan on going back to them?" I asked, though my real question, as nauseated as it made me, was 'do you plan on going back to _her_?'. How I managed to conjure up jealousy and territoriality over James of all people was beyond me, but the feeling was very much alive and festering. I did not want him to return to his coven, to Victoria, or anyone else. I wanted him to stay with me, for things to continue on as they had, the past week or so we had been with one another.

"There will be no coven to return to, by the time I'm finished here. Laurent has already moved on, I'm guessing. Victoria will not be far behind," he answered, though he still failed to seem moved by either of these facts. He stated them as simply as he might the weather or the color of his shirt, though he was talking about his only companions in the world. I was more of an entertaining burden than a companion, in my opinion. I was not of James' kind, hindering his ability to hunt at random, to run barefoot across miles in minutes, to live a much less human life.

Of course, that would only be an issue assuming he would allow me to remain human, alive and breathing, much longer.


	12. Green With Envy

C H A P T E R | _T W E L V E  
Author's Notes:_ Thank you, as always, to all my readers choosing to leave reviews! I decided to get another update posted tonight as everyone was so patient with last chapter, which was mainly filler. There were some things that needed to be solved and explained before I could go on with the story, but I promise this chapter has a little more action. And I _do_ mean action. ;)  


* * *

I could not have been more grateful that he decided to rent a room for the evening, that night. The Mustang was beginning to corrupt my posture, my back aching mercilessly every morning, if I spent the night sleeping as he drove.

"Wait here," he instructed, leaving me behind as he always did while making our reservations and checking us into a hotel. I believe it had something to do with my detracting from the believability of whatever clever story he came up with to squeeze us in at the very last moment, but either way, I never argued. He disappeared into the lobby of the hotel, a substantial improvement from the last hellhole we had found ourselves confined to and always an improvement over the car. It was not the Ritz, but it was certainly nothing akin to some of the slummier places we had found ourselves, that week.

The woman behind the counter was alone, a situation that always put me on edge when James was involved. I may have trusted him with _my _life, but that did not mean I trusted him with the lives of others. She was young, perhaps a few years older than myself, and beautiful, by my standards - black hair that fell to the middle of her back and a uniform that left little to the imagination. I bit my lower lip and waited, impatience brewing on the inside, for James to return. It was cold and, though I did my best to deny it, I had grown accustomed to seeing him beside me, hovering around me at all times.

I attempted to keep my eyes off of them, biting back admitting that I had other feelings besides those of worry for this woman. The overly welcoming smiles she threw to him suddenly had me criticizing that particular shade of red she was wearing. The way she flipped her hair as she spoke to him made me wonder if it was actually a dye job. Cattiness flowed unchecked through my veins, and I could not for the life of me decide why. It could have been the way he leaned forward a little more than necessary as he listened to her speak, or it could have been the sly smile I caught as he peeked at me out of the corner of his contact colored blue eyes. I could only hope the strain I was feeling was not evident on my face, though, judging from his reaction, it was.

I hated him for that brief flash of a smile that decorated his expression, and I hated myself more, for putting it there. I was truly feeling jealousy – not harebrained and half baked feelings of lust and love, but _jealousy_ – over the man who had taken me from my home, who had once tried to kill me. I was subconsciously contemplating new and fun ways to torture myself, it seemed. How could I possibly care enough, or want him enough, to feel so possessive over him? I knew he had dubbed me his new plaything, his belonging, but I was sure that was not a two way street. Edward and I had mutually belonged with and to one another; I merely belonged to James to ease his listlessness, it seemed. Certainly I had no grounds for laying claim to him, in return.

Still, was I to completely ignore the envy burning in the pit of my stomach as I watched the two of them shamelessly flirt? And, if so, did that same rule apply to the powerful want for him that threatened to overpower my sensibility? I was admittedly new to the game of being so heavily involved in a vampire who did not reflect those same devoted emotions, and my greenness was clearly showing, at the moment. I did not know how to play by the rules without feeling as though I was the one losing. It had always been so simple with Edward, though, as much as it pained me to admit it, it had never been half as exciting. The rush of anger I was getting from watching James and this… woman, I used the term loosely,

I resolved not to look at them again, to just wait patiently.

That lasted all of a minute. I found myself peeking back into the windowed room, disgust coming back full force as I noted the wide mouthed way the woman laughed at something James had said. Whatever it was, I decided, it could not have been _that_ hilarious. Going with that in mind, and the excuse that it was bone-chillingly cold outdoors, I pushed open the door to the lobby. James turned to look at me, as did the perky young lady he was talking to, though it was less out of interest in whoever walked in and more so her following James' line of vision. His smile was thrilled, but mocking, as he turned on a momentarily innocent face.

"Thank you for all your help… Eliza," he said before I had a chance to open my mouth, smoothly leaning forward and reading her name off of the tag affixed to her right breast. He slipped the plastic room key from her hand, turning around to face me. He slipped his arm around my waist, holding me tightly to his side, and flashed a winning smile at 'Eliza'. She merely glowered at me in disgust, a reaction I had never directly received on the arm of a vampire, though I had often felt I was. We walked past her desk wordlessly, boarding an elevator that would take us to whatever floor we had managed to secure a room on. I refused to speak, though I did not have much of an opportunity to, either. As soon the elevator doors shut, James was pressing me against the wall, his lips devouring the skin of my neck.

It came as a shock, though I could not bring myself to pull away. He had fed a handful of days prior; I was not worried for my life. At that point, he could have been ravenously thirsty, and I was not sure I would have been able to keep my hands at bay. There was something inherently territorial coming out in me, though I was not sure I had any territory to mark, in the first place. I tilted his chin up, only able to do so by his will to be moved, to crush my lips against his. He had denied me affection for several days after the incident in which he nearly ended my life, focusing more on Edward and on plotting our next move. He had left more bruises on me in that time than he had kisses, and I slowly came to the realization that going without his affection did not work for me. It led to an explosive blow up like the one I was currently lost in, my hands exploring far more than was appropriate or prudent for an elevator make out session. Another one of the seldom heard purrs I so longed to draw out of him escaped his lips, and I almost thought I felt him smile. I soon found out why.

A third sound, mixing in with my short of breath pants and his appreciative purrs of pleasure – someone was evidently clearing their throats, at us. I instantly pulled back, examining my surroundings without having caught my bearings. The elevator doors stood open, a very disapproving older couple standing directly before us. If I had not been frozen on the spot, I would have untangled my arms from around James, perhaps put a centimeter of distance between our rather connected bodies. I gasped in horror, while James merely laughed under his breath, making no attempt to help me cover up the moment of passion we'd been very much caught in. I did not move until he did, following his lead as we stepped off the elevator. I mumbled an apology, though the only reply I got was something about 'those damned honeymooning kids, these days'.

James had to drag me to the room, my face on fire with embarrassment, and my feet frozen and immobile. He was laughing and snickering quietly to himself most of the way, though it was not a far walk. Once I had snapped out of whatever moment I had trapped myself in, I had little idea what had been going on with me when I practically attacked him. If I could count on James for one thing, and one thing only, it was to bring to life an array of emotions in me that I thought would be dormant, forever. Anger, lust, jealousy… they were all a relief to feel, after feeling nothing for so long. To have that lust reciprocated was even more heavenly.

"What's got you all hot and bothered, princess?" he cooed, though his voice was husky and dark. He sat our bags down immediately and tossed his jacket to the floor, quickly shedding his shirt and allowing it to pool at his feet, as well. The desire I had made no attempt to keep in line flared up again, my lips burning to be back on his. He sauntered over to me, pulling my body flush against his by the firm grip he maintained on my hips. A devious smile crossed his face as he spoke. "Did someone make you jealous?"

"No," I lied stubbornly, leaning away from his searching lips. I may have been easily swayed by his downright delectable looks, or even his antagonizing behavior in the lobby with that cheap thrill of a clerk, but I was not going to allow him to see how easily, without a fight. He chuckled and buried his nose in the hollow of my collarbone, inhaling deeply and sighing appreciatively.

"You smell so much better than she did," he complimented me just before kissing the same spot. That was as near a true compliment as I got, much of the time. I was, however, quite glad that my scent was less potent to James than to Edward. The census of vampires agreed, I smelled light and floral, a sweet blooded creature who no vampire would be unlucky to drain dry. But at least now I could be kissed, touched in a way that did not involve my blood being anyone's most pressing thought.

"It doesn't matter. I was not jealous," I insisted, voice weakening under his direct coercion. It was impossible not to melt under the surprisingly gentle way his mouth worked. As usual, nips of pain were thrown into the mix, never allowing me to get too comfortable with his pace. His being gentle at all, in any respect, showed me that I had to be _something_ in his eyes. A fragile toy which he did not want to damage before he destroyed me, perhaps, but that did not stop my mind from imagining far more endearing possibilities.

"Oh, the look on your face begged to differ," he laughed as he said it, forcing my arms up and slipping my shirt over my head with only a small bit of cooperation from me. He drew an abstract trail down the valley of my breasts, just under the cup of my bra, leaving a stinging, cold path in his wake. "You looked as though you wanted to rip her throat out, if only you were capable. Why is that, I'm curious to know? Was it the way she complimented my eyes, or the fact that only two out of three buttons on her top were fastened? Say it… you were jealous."

I growled in frustration, which delighted him even further. He lazily backed me up until my legs met the edge of the bed, my knees buckling and allowing me to lie back as he approached over top of me. I couldn't have told you a thing about the room, what color the walls were, what the sheets below me looked like, nothing. It had all been a blur that centered in on his pale form as he had disrobed his upper half, as well as mine. He had dominated my thoughts with some sort of mind trick, forcing me to feel almost irrational jealousy and undeniable lust.

"Say it," he commanded, face inches from mine as he teasingly held back from further skin to skin contact. I reached up, running my hands briskly along the curvature of his sides, though I soon found them pinned to the bed. I groaned in pain at the sting this caused, the bruises left over from the last time we were in our current position still blooming colorfully on my wrists. He moaned lightly at the sound, though his eyes were locked on mine, still pressuring for obedience to his earlier command.

"I was jealous," I said through clenched teeth. He smiled, having broken through my strength of will. He firmly secured his hands on my middle and flipped the both of us so that I was now hovering over him. It was a position I was quite foreign to, never having been allowed to take the reigns, before.

"And why is that?" he teased, one hand resting in the back pocket of my jeans, the other tucked lazily behind his head as he stared up at me. His eyes were slowly becoming very red, his contacts melting away quickly, though I had grown accustomed to the scarlet hue versus the blue I would not have been surprised to have seen his eyes, had he been living and breathing as I was. I reached down and pulled loose the tie that fastened his long, blonde hair into a secure ponytail, marveling at how his hair fell around his shoulders when down. Slowly but surely, he was going to be the death of both me and my self control. "Why on earth would _you_ be jealous, unless you wanted me, all to yourself?"

I buckled under the pressure, the constant onslaught of every detail to his perfection. The killer I knew he was had vanished from my mind, replaced by the quite literally perfect sculpture below me, who was very much speaking the truth. It was killing me inside, knowing just how wrong this all was, despite how right it felt. Even still, I could not bring myself to deny the truthful answer to his questions. "Because I do."

"You do what?" he parroted back, much to my frustration. The innocence in his voice was laughable, yet almost convincing. I closed my eyes and attempted something resembling a deep breath, though it failed miserably.

"I want you," I answered, voice faltering as his hand snaked up my stomach, cold and smooth against my skin. I shuddered slightly under his touch, though it was from anything but the cold. I had never pictured myself as the type of girl to indulge in this kind of deliciously sinful behavior, least of all with a man who I barely knew. I knew James, but I didn't _know_ James. I knew little of his past, less of his plans for the future. But I suppose none of that mattered, as I very much knew what we both wanted for the present, as I gave my answer. "All to myself."

"Only me," he growled, pulling my lips towards his with a hand that knotted itself in my hair roughly. He kissed me deeply for a few moments before pulling back, allowing me air and a chance to agree with his summary of the situation. As far from my mind as Edward and anyone else was at that moment, I had only one logical, truthful answer. In the back of my mind, I realized the ramifications of my big mouth, but I was powerless to stop what was already in motion. He pulled sharply on my hair, hoping to speed my answer along. I flinched slightly as the words left my mouth, though my heart was confident in them, at the time.

"Only you."


	13. Ghosts

C H A P T E R | _T H I R T E E N__  
_**The following chapter contains mature themes, but no lemons! **  
_Author's Notes:_ Thanks to all my lovely readers out there! You're all unbelievably kind. I'm going to try and spoil you guys with updates, seeing as how I likely won't manage one, this weekend. So, get your fix while the gettin's good. :P  


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There was no questioning the fact that things had progressed too far, too quickly, that night in the hotel.

It had all been very instinctual, a natural progression that I was in no position to stop. It had started the moment we walked in the door and had only gotten more heated, taken to a higher level with each kiss and touch we gave one another. I cannot speak for what ran through his mind, but I never intended things to go so far, so fast. It was never my intention to allow him to put me that far under his spell, or for my sense of resistance to be so low. But the want I had felt for him was unspeakable and completely immovable. It was there, glaring at me and being spurred on by the rough to gentle cycle of his touches. I had become like a lightening rod for his electricity, and he took full advantage of it. As much as he was able, anyway, with the lack of control he seemed to have over his own response to everything that was going on, at the time.

It was not a gentle excursion by any means, though I had not expected it to be. It did not seem as though James was intentionally rough, only inexperienced in dealing with fragile human flesh while under such physical pressure. I could make excuses for his lack of care in handling me all I wanted; it would not make the angry purple bruises that decorated my body any less prevalent. On the other hand, no matter what battle scars I had received in the process, I could not deny the mind blowing pleasure I had experienced. I had nothing to compare the feeling to, though I knew somehow it would have shattered any other record holding sensation I happened to have experienced. He knew this, I was sure, with the way his name flew from my lips, throughout. If he had not been certain it was only him I wanted before, I was sure he then did.

I did not feel dirty or used afterwards, the way I anticipated I might have. There was no real remorse that Edward was not the body that collapsed over top of me, cool forehead pressed to mine which was slick with sweat. I had wholeheartedly believed he would be the one in that position with me, someday, and now, I couldn't imagine a time when it had not been red eyes I saw, versus gold, in my fantasies. It broke my heart in someway to realize how thorough a job I had done in replacing Edward with another, and it broke it even more so to realize what lack of an effort had to be put into that. For all the devotion I had poured into Edward and me, I had fallen to James, without question.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, the question posed with as much thought behind it as I had ever heard from him. He brushed his fingertips over a bruise blooming on my rib, pressing down on the angry spot with morbid curiosity. It took him a moment to withdraw his touch when I yelped. He was certainly a complex creature. That was about all I could come up with, in regards to his behavior and the odd way he seemed to express affection. My body was slowly learning to interpret his roughness as caresses, as sick a notion as that was.

"No," I lied smoothly. Clearly I was hurt, but I saw no reason to drive home the point. He shrugged and rose to his feet, giving a generous stretch before pulling his clothes back on. I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had actually expected him to cradle me against his stone chest afterwards, to kiss my bruises, to continue the romance beyond the actual act of what was had done. That was the insane part of me speaking again, I had to assume. Nothing in our history together had laid the foundation for an assumption of that magnitude. In fact, all evidence had pointed to the contrary. I had such little right to be sitting there, hot tears pricking my eyes as I watched him right himself without a word in my direction.

"Where… where are you going?" I asked, shocked as he made a move towards the door. I should have anticipated his despondent reaction, but there was zero possibility of my understanding his sudden departure. Things were not supposed to be perfect, but the thought of him leaving so soon was absolute hell. "You can't just _leave_ now. You're not serious," I anxiously insisted, pulling the covers over my bare form as I stood up, hoping to convince him to stay.

"Get some sleep, princess." He grinned, never turning back. He slipped out the door and into the night, without a word, leaving every idea of perfection between us shattered on the floor, around me. I hadn't the slightest idea what I was supposed to be feeling at the moment, but the soreness in my heart was nearly as powerful and overwhelming as the soreness that decorated my body. I would never be able to tell which half of the pain started my tears flowing at the pace which they did, though I decided it did not matter. Whatever caused the unshakeable sadness to settle over me, I did not try to fight it. It was entirely pointless to prolong the inevitable, which was the realization I had.

Edward had loved me – heart, body, and soul. I would never, and could never, hope to accomplish that with James, not even if I had begun to love him, in some way. I would be throwing my heart against a brick wall forever, so long as I was with him.

--

The tears did not stop for the better part of an hour.

I knew it was no one's fault but my own that I was in my current predicament, mommy and daddy no longer there to save me. I had cut all my ties, burned every bridge that could lead to salvation, at this point. If there had been a time I missed Edward, that I missed his entire family, in the time I had spent with James, it was that moment in particular. I knew better than trying to fool myself into believing that Edward was an option. I had now made the phrase 'sleeping with the enemy' a hellish reality we all had to live in, and I would not be forgiven for it.

I could only be depressed and listless for so long without driving myself insane. I eventually dragged myself to the shower, washing James' sweet, earthen scent from my skin in the process. I scrubbed hard on my skin underneath the warm water, working diligently towards the goal of smelling like nothing other than the hotel's brand of soap. I could only wash so forcefully, however, my many decorative bruises making any sort of pressure an excruciating ordeal. The water helped soothe my pain slightly, though only marginally so. It did nothing for the worst of the pain, though I strongly suspected nothing would.

I could not keep my heart from skittering erratically as I heard a sound in the room, my hopes skyrocketing before I had a chance to remind myself to stay calm. I shut off the water and quickly threw on what clothes I had brought with me to the bathroom – pajamas, no less – and bolted from the bathroom, whirling around the room, looking for him. I knew he had to have been there, somehow. I let no thoughts of negativity on that subject infiltrate my confidence in that fact.

A cold body pressed against me from behind, encasing me in their arms. My heart stopped mid-beat, all my hopes coming to a head in that moment. Part of me recanted all my earlier cursing James in my mind, immediately switching to the train of thought that he must have had a decent reason for running away the way he had. Of course, my heart of hearts knew better than to jump ahead so far. Still, I allowed myself to get carried away. "James," I mumbled hopefully, turning around in his arms.

"Not quite," a voice mumbled, and I found myself face to face with someone who was most definitely not James. Edward stared down at me, at first seeming like the most realistic hallucination I had ever bore witness to. I did not question how he entered the room, no point in denying the room was certainly not vampire proof. His hands locked around my waist, holding a bit too tightly and protectively, as he gazed down at me with disapproval coloring his features. He glared down at me, a growl escaping his lips, as he pulled my black and purple arm up for examination. His voice came out as a strained whisper, his fingertips brushing along my cheekbone as he spoke. "What has he done to you, Bella? Please, tell me it isn't what Alice saw."

Judging by the tone he used with those words, I was guessing it was _exactly_ what Alice had seen. I hung my head guiltily, though I hadn't the slightest idea what I truly felt guilty for. I was a single, consenting adult, free to make my own decisions. But those decisions were never meant to hurt Edward, or anyone else. They were not supposed to have hurt me the way they had, either.

"God, Bella, can't you see what he's doing?" Edward pleaded with me, taking my face into his hands. I was powerless to stop him, his golden eyes more full of love and concern than anything I had ever seen, instead of the anger and disgust I had expected to see. I melted all over again, as if it were the first time we spoke. "He's killing you; he's taking away everything in you he thinks I might love. But it won't work, not now and not ever. Please, let me take you away. He's… busy. We can make it."

I may as well have had a tattoo across my forehead reading 'lead me not into temptation, I can find it, myself.' Edward had walked in as breezily as he had walked out, offering me a second chance at everything I had given up, before. I wanted nothing more than to burst into flames in that moment, a thousand swords piercing my heart as I realized something; no matter what James did, my decision was not made. I could not take Edward's hand as easily as I could have, once, without a second thought. Not even with those golden eyes burning into mine could I make the split decision to leave James behind, after everything we had been through, in our short time together.

"Please, Bella, he's getting closer. I can't do this without your consent…" Edward begged, shaking me slightly as he spoke. Tears pricked at me eyes as I opened my mouth to answer him.


	14. Warning

C H A P T E R | _F O U R T E E N  
Author's Notes:_ I didn't plan on getting anything up this weekend, but I got a little time to myself and decided to write. As usual, I hope this is up to your standards! Thank you to all of you, as always. Happy reading. :)

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"Please, Bella, he's getting closer. I can't do this without your consent…" Edward begged, shaking me slightly as he spoke. Tears pricked at me eyes as I opened my mouth to answer him.

Words failed me. I stared into his liquid topaz eyes, my heart both failing to beat correctly and breaking, simultaneously. He could not possibly comprehend what I would have given for things to return to normal, for me to look at him and see no one but him, in the world. I would have sacrificed my soul to feel the way I had, at one point, though I knew that it would make no difference. The time when my world centered Edward was gone; a new era had begun the day he made his decision to leave me. When I looked into my heart, I no longer saw Edward alone. Whether I wanted to deny that or not, it was the truth.

"You don't know how much I wish it were that easy," I answered, reaching out just once to touch his cool cheek with the flat of my palm. Edward's pain was translating as my pain, both of us wearing strained, brokenhearted expressions. No matter how much it stung, I had to press on with the truth. "But it isn't, Edward. It _isn't_ that easy, anymore."

"It can be. Please, just let me show you that this isn't what you want. Things can be so much different," he promised desperately, his hand shadowing over mine, holding it to his cheek. My resolve faltered, slightly. If in that moment Edward could have promised me a continuous and lasting togetherness between us, I would have accepted. But I knew better, this time. I knew that he would never recant his promise of staying away from me, at least not in a romantic sense. I could not handle having Edward's presence in my life if I was expected to love another, at the same time. If I had him, I would love only him. If I could not, I would foster whatever feelings were developing with James. Selfishness be damned, it was the simple rule of survival, to my understanding.

"Things _are_ different, now. That's half the problem," I replied, forcing my hand to break away from his marble skin, reluctantly. I wanted to be with Edward, though the flames of that want had died down considerably from the fever pitch that they had once been. The desperate, undying devotion was no longer a factor, having dissipated, somehow. I firmly locked my hands around his wrists, pulling them from my waist, taking a step back. "I'm not going home, Edward."

"This is what you want, Bella?" he growled, motioning around us. I looked at him, perplexed as to what he meant. His eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, making the step back I had taken useless. "Living out of a car, hopping hotels with a _killer_? This is a disgusting way for you to get back at me, if that's what you're aiming at."

"What I _want_ is to be with James," I said, leaving no question surrounding my decision. There was an edge of desperation and need to my voice I did not recognize, especially when it came to the subject of James. James, who had left me cold and alone in the bed after making love, having sex, whatever terminology one would apply to that act. James, who, for the better part of our time together, had mistreated me and been cold, callous, even. Despite all the logic to the contrary, my decision was made, my stance immovable and unrelenting. "Please, Edward, just believe me. I know what I'm doing."

"You haven't the slightest idea," he whispered, his eyes darkening marginally. I watched the tendons in his hands threaten to burst through his rock hard skin as he clenched his hands into tight fists as his sides. He was battling with something, though I could only guess at what. The strain that settled over his features alarmed me slightly, tipping me off that whatever internal struggle he was having, I would not enjoy the outcome. His face was solemn as he stared down at me. "If you knew what you were saying, the danger I know you're in, you would thank me for what I plan to do."

"You will not hurt him," I growled at Edward, my eyes narrowed. Once again, I surprised myself at the fierceness in my voice. My sudden will to defend such a disgusting, loathsome creature in Edward's eyes was out of place, most certainly. I had no reason to protect James, no motivation behind it other than the sudden defensive jolt that pricked up the hairs on the back of my neck. Edward looked taken back by my display of loyalty, though he attempted to keep the shock from registering on his face.

"You will never know how I hate myself for allowing him to live," he mused, voice heavy and quiet with sadness. He brushed my cheek softly with his fingertips, causing me to shiver. I narrowed my eyes at him once more for making such a comment. The thought of Edward killing James would have once brought me comfort from the nightmarish dreams that plagued me when I knew he was existing. Given all that had passed between James and I, however, Edward's little wish made my defenses rise. He continued as though the sharp look I gave him had not made the least bit of difference. "None of this would ever have happened if I'd only protected you the way I should have. You would have continued to be safe, from _all_ vampires. You wouldn't have been taken advantage of by some sick mind."

"He did not take advantage of me," I insisted, angrily. I had never experienced so many hostile emotions towards Edward, and I had certainly not expressed half of those which I had. That alone was a sign of how much had changed between the two of us.

"Don't say that, Bella," he commanded, glaring down at me without apology. His eyes were black as night and hard as stone as he stared into my eyes. "Don't you _ever_ say that."

"No," I interrupted, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to continue in speaking. "No, it's the truth, Edward. He didn't take advantage of me, in the slightest. This is my life, my decisions. James hasn't done anything wrong."

Nothing that I needed to discuss with Edward, at that point, anyways.

He froze up, smelling the air tentatively and closing his eyes - listening, hearing thoughts and movements that were beyond me. James must have been in the vicinity, I had to assume. The thought alone sped up my heart rate in a way I knew was very wrong for the situation. I could tell he heard the change in my pulse, judging by the scowl that decorated his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, composing himself as best he was able, though it did not seem to work.

"This isn't over, but it will be, very soon. And I can promise you, it isn't going to end well when it is," he warned me, his expression blackening. He was an entirely different person at that moment than I had ever seen him as, truly appearing to _be_ a vampire. I cowered back from him, backing up against the wall in fear. It was one of the first times I had ever been trembling from fear in his presence, least of all from him. It seemed that my revelation about the consensual act that had been whatever he had mistaken for my having been taken advantage of had sent Edward over an edge he had been working hard to stay above.

Before I had blinked, Edward had disappeared. He was gone without a trace, leaving only his scent permeating the room, indicating his presence in it, and the door half open.


	15. The Difference

C H A P T E R | _F I F T E E N  
Author's Notes: _Blargh. If I wasn't sick and bedridden, you guys might not have gotten another update so soon! Hee. But, alas, I was inspired to write a little for you guys. I always appreciate you questions and comments, as usual. You're all amazing!  
_

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_

I could not be sure how long I was motionless, petrified and glued to the wall.

Edward's departure had left me shaken more than I was willing to admit to myself, though having the image of his twisted face embedded in my mind made it difficult to pretend. He had looked horrifying, angry. His promise had been grave and serious, his voice filled with nothing short of pure hatred when he spoke. Never, not once in all our time together, had I ever seen Edward as furious as he had been in that moment.

It seemed like hours after Edward had gone that the door moved a half a foot, pushing it the rest of the way open. The gust of cold air that flooded the already frigid room gave me an excuse for the trembling that overtook my body, though fear was the underlying current, there. I half expected Edward to saunter in, carrying James' body in his arms, or prepared to forcefully take him with me. A million and one possibilities terrified my mind, though they were put to rest when I saw it was not Edward, at all.

James, my own personal devil who had quickly become my angel, stood in the door way, his face a perfect mask of confusion. For a moment, if only a split second, I fooled myself into thinking I saw a hint of worry in his unnaturally reddened eyes. He surveyed the room in all of its spotless and straightened glory, presumably a stark contrast between my tiny body huddled against the wall, the door splayed open. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, and taking a large, slow intake of breath. Smelling the air, just as Edward had been, I assumed. Edward's scent hit James' nose and his eyes snapped to mine, a large growl tearing from his throat.

I anticipated his anger, foresaw him jumping to conclusions that did not apply in this situation. He would believe I invited Edward, or that his visit had been anything close to pleasant. He would be as furious and dangerous as Edward had been, before leaving. I could see it all before his first step towards me, though it grew more and more detailed as he crossed the room.

"What was _he _doing here?" he asked, slowly and deliberately, through bared and clenched teeth, as he knelt beside me, his hands going around my throat. I backed up against the wall as far as was possible, unable to deny that he was frightening, in that moment. His eyes were a brilliant, fierce red when he had entered, though they were now a blackened scarlet. "Answer. Me. Now."

"He wanted to take me away with him," I squeaked out, though my answer only pushed him to squeeze more tightly around my neck. My hands instinctively wound up pawing at his hands as they tightened, though it did nothing against his force. It never did, this I knew. And yet, I tried and tried, all in vain.

"Then tell me, princess, just why are you here?" he growled, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. The question caught me off guard; I had presumed he knew by that point the answer. I stared up at him in confusion, my eyes brimming with tears from the lack of air coming through my airways. He loosened his hold slightly, allowing me a gust of air and a little room for speaking.

"I wanted to stay with you," I told him meekly. For whatever reason, this answer earned me another tight squeeze on my throat as he examined me closely, his head cocked to the side, his eyes shining as he weighed something heavily in his mind. He released his grip on my neck, air suddenly rushing to my burning lungs. I still remained pinned to the wall, both by James' proximity and my own fear, which had left me shaking. Somehow, though, since the moment he entered the room, his presence had relieved me. He had come back, as he always did, though this time it had been more of a blessing than ever.

"Humans, so fascinating. You're loyal, though you've got no motivation for such a feeling," he murmured, trailing his icy fingertips down my neck and down my arm. His voice was no longer angry, somehow pacified by the knowledge that I had not intended to go with Edward, that I had withstood whatever temptation he had posed. "Your decisions were so much the same, even without my monitoring them. You've proved more impressive than I once believed."

He collected me in his arms, crossing the room with me and dropping me gently on the bed. I tightened my arms around myself as I remained motionless and still in the bed, still not completely trusting of James' emotions and motivations, despite the kind words. He was so unpredictable, one moment ready to shove me completely through a wall, and the next carrying me with care to the bed. I closed my eyes tightly for a long few moments, trying to slow my breathing and calm my heart rate after everything that had happened. It took longer than I anticipated, but it eventually worked.

I opened my eyes to find James' staring back at me, his expression light but thoughtful as he looked on. The question I needed to ask was burning on the tip of my tongue, hanging in the air between us. I needed to know why he had left me, what had prompted his quick exit. My eyebrows furrowed and my mouth hung open, the words never coming in a steady and coherent stream. I had no idea how to ask the question that I needed to ask.

"Why did you leave me?" I asked, the '_me_' slipping into the sentence with a bit more desperation that I intended. There was something about James that left me too weak and defenseless to hide the depth of the things I felt. He smiled down at me ruefully, heaving an almost amused sigh. He smoothed my hair back and gave me a look I could describe as condescending, at best.

"Safety precaution," he mumbled, sitting down on the bed beside me, barely leaving an indentation. I looked up at him, confused, once again. A safety precaution. His leaving me cold and alone was a _safety precaution_. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around a concept such as that. I had needed him there, wanted him there, more than he was giving me credit for. He sighed, rolling his eyes at my lack of understanding.

"Self control is not my forte, you probably realize," he informed me, wrapping his cold arms gingerly around me. His hold was always a little too tight, unpracticed and rusty when it came to handling humans. It was still the only hold I knew, at that point, and I leaned into it, taking comfort in his arms. "I'm not used to actually putting any effort in keeping something as weak and edible as you alive and well. But I've explained to you my preferences when it comes to my toys, yes?"

He paused long enough to allow me a nod. He stroked my hair somewhat gently as he continued, explaining his motivations behind leaving. Though it was unrealistic and almost painfully cliche, I had immediately forgiven whatever trespasses occurred when he laid besides me, his scent close and thick as he held me against him.

"It's becoming apparent certain situations will require a little reinforcement," he went on, his fingers dancing along the swell of my hips, inching up my shirt, ever so slightly. I shuddered, a small remembering smile forming on my lips as he did. That small, certainly intentionally seductive motion recalled many touches of the same variety to mind. "After such a weak, human moment, I needed to indulge myself in something a little more true to my nature. Though, I must admit, you resisted the urge to indulge _yourself_, much better than I believed you would."

"You didn't _want _to go, then?" I asked timidly, wary of trusting myself to seek that message out in his spiel. I didn't want to misunderstand his intentions with what he had said, my heart likely ready and raring to jump to a million different conclusions. He snickered at me, his handsome face twisting up into a boyish, mischievous grin.

"Don't be silly, Bella," he chided me with amusement. "We both know you will be gone, long before I ever decide to go."


	16. Fear

C H A P T E R | _S I X T E E N  
Author's Notes:_ Thank you so much to everyone who has been so patient with me! I've been extremely ill and, this time, it was much too ill to sit up and write. But I am back and, as a special treat, I've decided to go with an idea people have been on board with since the beginning. So, without further ado, I bring you chapter sixteen, from James's point of view. Enjoy!

"And too cold for kisses, cause I've fallen from heaven, your halo is just a punch in my face.  
You're all the rage, you're all the fun, but ever if you cross me I'll get you.  
Sweet revenge is just a matter of time." – _"Candy"_ – Lovedrug

* * *

I stared down at her sleeping form, curious more about my own nature than hers, for once.

There was nothing overly beautiful about this creature – she paled in comparison to Victoria or even other human females I had stumbled across in my travels. I felt no overwhelming lust for her appearance, and her blood certainly did not call to me the way it had to that heroic, do-gooder Cullen of hers. My steadfast want to keep her alive made such little sense. I had never expended an ounce of effort in the way of keeping a human alive and well, not when temptation had abounded, on more than one occasion.

She was so trusting, damn her. Sleeping next to a monster, quite literally, who she had to have known could take her blood on a whim, draining her for all she was worth. It made no sense. I was leagues less deserving of trust than the Cullen boy; I had made sure this point was evident. There was no point in coming up soft around the edges, presenting a false sense of security, at that point. Yet, she trusted me, regardless. She gave herself to me in ways that would make Edward seek out the quickest and easiest way to die, a million fold. The satisfaction that fact alone allotted me was immeasurable; it was the satisfaction I received from the actual act of having her in that sense that truly rattled me.

A growl of frustration built up, low in my chest. I leapt from my perch on the arm of the chair, grabbing my jacket and slipping out the door silently, in one fluid motion. Bella didn't even stir. Not that I could excuse to myself just why it would have perturbed me so, if she had. Perhaps it was something about that brokenhearted, achy look that filled her eyes when I left her, that way.

Still, even that trivial detail should not have mattered. She was nothing. A human, a toy, a _plaything_. But that failed to change what I had felt, the maddeningly protective and stupidly full wanting that had come over me. It was nothing more than a leftover human reaction; I had to silence myself by believing as much. Too long without a warm body had made my senses weak, the reactions to such things too strong. It had been decades since I had partaken of a human woman without literally taking of her blood, Victoria having been my companion.

_Victoria_, I thought, mulling the name over in my mind as I stalked, as stealthily as a shadow, down the darkened street. My assessment of Victoria had been dead on, if nothing else. She would move on with quickness, no delay in her search for a new, more powerful mate. Not that she would _find_ someone more powerful or lethal than myself. She had to know as much, as well. It was the very reason she had attached herself to me like a leech, never moving from my side for the better part of a decade or two. I would not miss the fiery red head herself as much I would miss the perks of having a mate with similar abilities to mine.

Victoria was fast, strong, sturdy. She could defend herself, and, for the most part, she insisted on doing so. She was a weapon in her own right, never needing a protector, though I could not have guaranteed any one would have volunteered, had that not been the case. Bella was so much different; she was weak and supple, a temptation for human villains as well as those of my kind. She needed constant looking after, constant reprimanding. She was little more than an annoyance, at times.

I needed to kill her.

The answer had spelled itself out so long ago with utter clarity. I needed to fulfill the purpose I was created with and kill her for my own sustenance. It would solve absolutely everything, I knew. She would be gone, no longer a threat – if you could, in all seriousness, call any human such a thing – to my first nature, no longer a constant thought in my mind, no longer an issue. She would be gone, and I would move along. It would be quick, dirty, and, I had the inkling, very satisfying to dispose of her that way.

I suppressed another growl, one of self loathing, this time, as I fought off the conclusion that things were no longer that simple. I had been the one to complicate them, though she and her angelic little Edward had not made it any easier. He was giving her the choice to stay, and she was making the wrong one. I needed her to go with him, to make the obvious choice and try to run, so that I may have followed her. If she ran, I could chase her. If I could chase her, I would feel such immense pleasure at catching her, I would have no time to think when it came time to kill her.

Of course, I would only have to wait for her to come to her senses, to go with him the next time he offered such an opportunity. And how could she not? It was only as logical as sunrise and sunset. The stark contrast between he and I had to be evident in her mind, every second of the day. And yet, she had refused him on two separate occasions, claiming to prefer my company over his.

She was clearly a broken human. Any normal human would have picked neither. A slightly damaged human, however, would have chosen the option they knew for certain would not end in their death. Still, I knew she would right herself, eventually. And when that day came, she would die. It was all very simple.

The hardest part was admitting to myself that I was not anticipating that day with full on glee and excitement. I had meant it when I had told Bella that she was now mine, from then until I was no longer interested in keeping her around. It ate away at me everyday, knowing that _I _had developed some… feeling. Some _some_thing, for the most pathetic, weakened creature on the face of the planet. I was really no better than the disgusting, unnatural fools that she had been exiled from, was I?

Of course I was. And I would remind her just what danger lurked within me. She would see how much better, how much stronger, more deadly, more lethal I was than even the largest of them. She would fear me, once again.

I moved swiftly through the darkness, stopping only to inhale the many scents the city had to offer. Bird, cat, dog, exhaust pipes, steam… _human_. I smiled at the curiousness about that; it was nearly three in the morning; no human should have been out walking the streets, so alone. No matter – it suited my needs, perfectly.

I moved at an inhuman pace as I zeroed in on the source of the scent, female, young, from the different notes within its composure. Blindingly fast, I was there, shrouded ion the darkness that swallowed up the opposite end of the street from her. A pretty young thing, as I had presumed she would be. Dark hair, thin build, clutching her pocketbook to her side. This was all going to be over too fast to be enjoyed, properly.

"Excuse me, miss?" I crooned, stepping from the shadows with absolute cordiality. She let out a pip and dug her nails into the strap of her pocketbook. I let out a small, dark laugh. As if her belongings were what I was after…

"I didn't mean to frighten you." I was using a purposefully silken voice, actually, the velvet seeping further and further into my tone with every lie. "I only meant to ask you for directions." The venom pooled behind my teeth as I stepped forward, keeping a slow, no offensively human pace that matched hers.

"Oh…" she answered, not entirely sure, I assumed, but much too enchanted by my camouflage to say much else. She paused, peering around at the street signs before pointing them out to me. She was barely feet away, reachable even by my weakest jump, easily. "You're on Fifth and Manchester, if that helps."

"You'll have to come a bit closer, if you don't mind," I implored, squinting my eyes and placing a hand behind my ear, as though I wasn't sure what she had said. As though I couldn't hear her, miles away. Of course, she obeyed. I smiled, faux apology flooding my expression. "I'm a little hard of hearing."

I smiled slightly, sure of myself. After tonight, I would be sure Bella had the proper amount of fear instilled in her.


	17. AUTHORS NOTE

**N O T E | **_From the author_

* * *

Readers,

I haven't been sure what do to with this story. I am thrilled that so many are still enjoying it, and I hate that I've left you all hanging for so long. I've been ill as well as busy and stumped for writing ideas, but I will attempt to continue this story, soon enough. I apologize to all those who have stuck with this story without results this long, and I hope this changes soon!

Love you,  
Whisper


	18. ANOTHER NOTE

**N O T E | **_From the author_

* * *

My dear readers,

This has been a crazy ride. You just don't know how many times I started and stopped this story... I want to finish it, but I feel I've corrupted it's original direction, somewhere along the way. It was meant to go a more certain way that I blocked off a long while back, and things just sort of remain stuck for me, in regards to this. I have recently written something new, but it is essentially the same. It's this story, in a way, and yet a different one entirely. Still James/Bella, still New Moon era, but more purposeful, the way I intended this one to be. I may come back to this in the future, but I ask all my loyal readers to please check out my new story, "You Found me".

It can be found here - .net/s/4931491/1/You_Found_Me

I am deeply apologetic to you all, but I hope you'll stick with me through a second go at this!


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